In The Shadows Of Early Retirement
Nov 5, 2017 16:43:54 GMT -6
Bonnie Blue, Alex Richards, and 2 more like this
Post by SHADOWLOVE on Nov 5, 2017 16:43:54 GMT -6
Crystal Lake. . .
Shortly after the Fishing Hook Match with Harry Diderot at Killing Floor. . .
An immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a pair of 6.2L 550hp Fuel Injected Supercharged Chevrolet Airboat Engines powering a pair of 4 Blade WhirlWind Whisper Tip Propellers can be heard echoing in the distance throughout Camp Crystal Lake.
Cutting through the murky gray-green water was a 20’ Floral City Military High Sided Aluminum Hulled Airboat.
The Infamous Superstar's personal bodyguard/valet and “Fashionista Sensei”, Ms. Miyamoto, the simply ravishing femme fatale temptress, maneuvers the 20’ Floral City Military High Sided Aluminum Hulled Airboat with silent Bushidō catlike precision a few feet away from the fallen shadowy figure hanging from four fish hooks strategically placed on his muscular back and floundering around like a dead fish in Crystal Lake.
Her raven black hair was pulled back in a French braid showing off her angelic looking face with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes hidden behind a pair of RayBan sunglasses. Her attractively well-proportioned, slim, trim, toned body built for sin encased in a Camp Crystal Lake t-shirt tied in a knot accentuating her waist in Daisy Duke khaki shorts designed by Stella McCartney and Timberland Women's Norwood Hiker Waterproof Booties.
Her two salty looking Japanese dudes and personal bodyguards named Kyodai and Shatei, wearing Body Glove Mens 3mm EX3 Free Dive Full Wetsuits, were starting to pull the fallen shadowy figure hanging from four fish hooks strategically placed on his muscular back out of Crystal Lake like the catch-of-the-day and back into the 20’ Floral City Military High Sided Aluminum Hulled Airboat.
Your favorite modern day charismatic and charming, egotistical, narcissistic, politically incorrect, felicitating, self-righteous, second-generation megalomaniac and apex predator, "The Handsome Half-breed" Shadowlove. was stripped to the waist showing off the upper body of a Greek God, with washboard abs, in his custom-made Calvin Klein crocodile skinned pants and custom-made Calvin Klein alligator skinned boots.
He runs his hands through his slicked back classic masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair and down his muscular chest and washboard abs glistening from the murky gray-green water and flicks beads of murky gray-green water from off his fingers in a “That is why they call me, The Face Of The Franchise, The Whole ‘F'N’ Show, Mr. UCI, or whatever expletive that you want to put in front of my name whiplash smile just charms the hell out of everyone in this organization” style gesture. His low dusky voice rings out fully, with all the charm and charisma that one can muster, mister:
“Get these goddamn mutherfucking cables off my back. I’m finished. . .”
His sweet and lovely Miyamoto with Bushidō catlike precision removes a dragon-headed handled katana and shaves off each one of the mounts strategically attached to his muscular back with the razor-sharp shita-kitae blade with the craftsmanship of a professional plastic surgeon without leaving a mark.
Her sweet as honey, harmoniously hypnotizing, smooth as silk, smoky voice radiating through her very luscious and alluring lips in Japanese:
“Watashi no ai, anata wa Harry Diderot-san ni ushinatta. Anata no shūchū to shūchū wa, saikin, hoka no gaibu no rieki ni natte irukara. . .”
He seems to be enjoying the quiet, silent lucidity escapism from the rigmaroles of everyday life in the United Championship Infinite but on the inside his mind and body were fuming with raging fury. His heart rate was a very relaxed 40 beats a minute as the oxygen in his blood helped the preternatural powers of his mind’s eye remain focused and alert to the surroundings around him as he translates her Japanese, “My love, you lost to Harry Diderot because your focus and concentration have been on other outside interests lately. . .”
“I just don't really give a fuck about what anyone thinks about me in this organization anymore. . .”
She can sense the raging fury burning in his mind’s eye behind his sparkling blue eyes in a predatory manner that still shows how passionate he is about defending an organization that has always shown bitter resentment and righteous indignation towards everything that is representative in his very own existence.
“Sono wazurawashi-sa, fukai-kan, tekii no kyōretsuna kanshoku wa, anata no omoiyari no aru jishin to tekitai-tekina gōman-sa, mujihina sōsa to akui no aru eikyō-ryoku no aru shinri-tekina taido no utsubo-sei no men de kokoro no jōtai ni naru to, jijō en oyobi seirigaku-teki sukiru setto no utsubo-sei ga shikakkei no en no uchigawa ni aru. . .”
He wasn't really in any kind of mood to listen to any kind of lecture as he translates her Japanese, “That strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, and hostility has always been what has kept your concentration in complete focus when it comes to your state of mind in terms of your condescending confidence and antagonistic arrogance and ruthlessly manipulative and unscrupulous influential psychological mindset toughness outside of the squared-circle and physiological skillset toughness inside of the squared-circle. . .”
“The UCI Hierarchy, every wrestler in the back, and the UCI Fandom that have chosen me as their Face of the Franchise, The Whole F’N Show, Mr. UCI, or whatever expletive that they want to put in front of my name can shove that thought right up their ass. . .”
He was laying on his back on the Non-Skid Decking of the Diamond Plate Lined Passenger Floor of the lead airboat with his arm resting over his face and covering his sparkling blue eyes.
“They really think that they can put together this so-called, self-proclaimed Team UCI without the one man that went back to that second-rate organization with third-rate talent and came out with a Top 10 finish at their WAR XVI without even being in that piss-ant organization for over a year and a half and come out victorious in another predetermined second-rate organization's Pay-Per-View? Fuck ‘em. . .”
He had a Blu electronic cigarette (product placement) in his mouth puffing and blowing out a series of vapor rings up into the air. The first series of vapor rings seems to turn into question marks in a “riddle me this, riddle me that” style gesture.
“I can understand Spencer Adams and Zombie McMorris picking their nose and coming up with the current tag-team Champions, Bonnie Blue and Alex Richards, but do they actually think that Kevin Bishop and Andre Holmes really give a fuck about this organization more than they do about their very own personal gain in the WCF?. . .”
The second series of vapor rings seems to tell the story of the real Andre Holmes and the real Kevin Bishop by blowing smoke up everyone's dresses in this organization.
“Andre spit on this organization and his reputation when he kissed Seth Lerch’s ass like everyone else that had to run back to that second-rate organization because he couldn't dominate the talent in this organization like he could dominate the third-rate talent in that second-rate organization. . .”
The next series of vapor rings seems to show the real Andre Holmes and the real Kevin Bishop fighting it out to see who gets the privilege of becoming Seth Lerch’s Ass-man.
“And then there's Kevin Bishop, geezus Kev, where do his true loyalties really lie? Every time Seth Lerch dangles the WCF World Championship like a carrot over his fathead, he’s always the first one galloping behind Seth Lerch waiting for him to bend over to kiss his ass like the gullible jackass that he really is when getting delusions of grandeur thinking that anyone who is still affiliated with a rival organization like the UCI would actually become the WCF World Champion. . .”
She seems to be mysteriously conjuring up a mystical spell over him just by her mere presence as she starts twirling his classically masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair through her fingers with carnal fascination and malignant pleasure knowing that no matter what he says or what he does, he can do no wrong because he will always be one of the original central foundational cornerstones in the birth, growth, development, and preservation of the United Championship Infinite.
==============================
A stark white stretch limousine, with a 10” lift and 38” rims and the toughest, most versatile off-road tires ever made, 38.5X14.50X15C Interco Super Swamper TSL/SX Bias-Ply tires with Vantablack mud flaps with a 3 1/2" by 2 1/4" chrome sexy cowgirl insignia and personalized license plate “Hariuddoburondo”, intertwines its way through Durham, North Carolina.
Your favorite modern day charismatic and charming, egotistical, narcissistic, politically incorrect, felicitating, self-righteous, second-generation megalomaniac and apex predator, "The Handsome Half-breed" Shadowlove, was sitting in the rich Corinthian leather seat staring at himself with a fixed, almost vacant expression reflecting from the dark smoke tinted window of the limousine.
He was running his hands through his classic masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown showing off his fighter's face while looking into the dark smoke tinted window with an ice cold stare radiating from his sparkling blue eyes. He had a Blu electronic cigarette (product placement) in his mouth puffing and blowing out a series of vapor rings up into the air.
His heart rate was a very relaxed 40 beats a minute as the oxygen in his blood helped the preternatural powers of his mind’s eye remain focused and alert to the surroundings around him. He seems to be enjoying the quiet, silent lucidity escapism from the rigmaroles of everyday life in the United Championship Infinite.
He was stripped to the waist showing off the upper body of a Greek God, with washboard abs, in a newly fresh and crisp custom-made Calvin Klein stark liquid white leather trench-coat with fringe along with his custom-made Calvin Klein crocodile skinned pants and custom-made Calvin Klein alligator skinned boots.
Quietly, to himself, he appears to be lip syncing a song, “UNSTOPPABLE” by Sia, that he was listening to on his (product placement) custom-made special edition Beats Studio gloss white wireless headphones:
His personal bodyguard/valet and “Fashionista Sensei”, Ms. Miyamoto, was in her proper place sitting next to him and cradling against his muscular body and moving very little, never turning her head, or revealing any kind of expression that gives the viewing audience at home a clue as to her innermost thoughts with the exception of a very sharp and penetrating affection and devilishly delicious, malevolent and pleasurable, mischievously smile coming from her very luscious and alluring lips while caressing his muscular chest with her fingers.
Her raven black hair was pulled back in a French braid showing off her angelic looking face with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes hidden behind a pair of RayBan sunglasses strategically placed on her perfectly flawless nose.
Her attractively well-proportioned, slim, trim, toned body built for sin encased in a form-fitting shimmering silver and Vantablack Mandarin sequin dress with a French-cut up the side to her thigh designed by Stella McCartney and Vantablack Jimmy Choo stilettos. Her sweet as honey, harmoniously hypnotizing, smooth as silk, smoky voice radiating through her very luscious and alluring lips in Spanish:
“El Payaso Loco-san. . .”
She lowers her RayBan sunglasses down her perfectly flawless nose on her angelic looking face showing off her intoxicating and incandescent almond shaped green eyes of the Goddess of the Rising Sun and a 21st century female samurai warrior known for her bravery and strength.
“Nunca se sabe qué guapo mestizo Shadowlove-san va a aparecer en Overload en Durham. Y eso es muy, muy malo para ti. ¿Vas a enfrentarte a The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove-san basado en el United Championship Infinite? O, ¿te enfrentarás a The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove-san, que está siendo apartado del United Championship Infinite por el vórtice de la realidad de las realidades del mundo de la vida cotidiana que en realidad existe para él, en oposición a la ideología idealista de la silenciosa y silenciosa escapismo de lucidez de los calabozos de la vida cotidiana en el United Championship Infinite?. . .”
He wasn't really in any kind of mood to listen to anything that has to do with El Payaso Loco and this match on Overload as he translates her Spanish, “You never know which Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove is going to show up on Overload in Durham. And that is very, very bad for you. Are you going to be facing The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove that is based in the United Championship Infinite? Or, are you going to be facing The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove that is being pulled away from the United Championship Infinite by the vortex of violence of the realities of the world of everyday life that actually exists for him as opposed to the idealistic ideology of the quiet, silent lucidity escapism from the rigmaroles of everyday life in the United Championship Infinite?. . .”
He flicks the Blu electronic cigarette into the camera but instead of his low dusky voice ringing out fully, with all the charm and charisma that one can muster, mister as if he is about to get down to business of painting his masterpiece, his patented malevolent, tight wolfish, whiplash smile, slowly appearing on his lips showing off perfectly white even teeth on his chiseled fighter's face in a “I have the one thing that every man, woman, and child fears, my sweet and lovely Miyamoto. And I will take you to the one place that everyone fears and deliver upon you, The Dark Gift. You see, The Dark Gift isn't like any other finisher in the sports entertainment business. Oh, no, some people need a handful of finishers just to survive El Payaso Loco. But why, when all you only need is just ONE. ONE to defeat El Payaso Loco. The Dark Gift is that living, breathing omnipotence, omnipresence, omniscience and truly ostentatious indulgence when it takes on a life of its own and simply ends El Payaso Loco, just like you never even existed at Overload” Jake The Snake Roberts stylistic shit-eating grin.
She pauses. Then. . .
She looks at the viewing audience at home with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes and showing no emotion on her angelic looking face then slices her own throat from her left carotid artery to her right carotid artery with her right index finger and makes an imaginary blood explosion style gesture with her left hand.
Then. . .
She raises her RayBan sunglasses up her perfectly flawless nose on her angelic looking face while hiding her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes with her middle finger.
Shortly after the Fishing Hook Match with Harry Diderot at Killing Floor. . .
An immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a pair of 6.2L 550hp Fuel Injected Supercharged Chevrolet Airboat Engines powering a pair of 4 Blade WhirlWind Whisper Tip Propellers can be heard echoing in the distance throughout Camp Crystal Lake.
Cutting through the murky gray-green water was a 20’ Floral City Military High Sided Aluminum Hulled Airboat.
The Infamous Superstar's personal bodyguard/valet and “Fashionista Sensei”, Ms. Miyamoto, the simply ravishing femme fatale temptress, maneuvers the 20’ Floral City Military High Sided Aluminum Hulled Airboat with silent Bushidō catlike precision a few feet away from the fallen shadowy figure hanging from four fish hooks strategically placed on his muscular back and floundering around like a dead fish in Crystal Lake.
Her raven black hair was pulled back in a French braid showing off her angelic looking face with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes hidden behind a pair of RayBan sunglasses. Her attractively well-proportioned, slim, trim, toned body built for sin encased in a Camp Crystal Lake t-shirt tied in a knot accentuating her waist in Daisy Duke khaki shorts designed by Stella McCartney and Timberland Women's Norwood Hiker Waterproof Booties.
Her two salty looking Japanese dudes and personal bodyguards named Kyodai and Shatei, wearing Body Glove Mens 3mm EX3 Free Dive Full Wetsuits, were starting to pull the fallen shadowy figure hanging from four fish hooks strategically placed on his muscular back out of Crystal Lake like the catch-of-the-day and back into the 20’ Floral City Military High Sided Aluminum Hulled Airboat.
Your favorite modern day charismatic and charming, egotistical, narcissistic, politically incorrect, felicitating, self-righteous, second-generation megalomaniac and apex predator, "The Handsome Half-breed" Shadowlove. was stripped to the waist showing off the upper body of a Greek God, with washboard abs, in his custom-made Calvin Klein crocodile skinned pants and custom-made Calvin Klein alligator skinned boots.
He runs his hands through his slicked back classic masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair and down his muscular chest and washboard abs glistening from the murky gray-green water and flicks beads of murky gray-green water from off his fingers in a “That is why they call me, The Face Of The Franchise, The Whole ‘F'N’ Show, Mr. UCI, or whatever expletive that you want to put in front of my name whiplash smile just charms the hell out of everyone in this organization” style gesture. His low dusky voice rings out fully, with all the charm and charisma that one can muster, mister:
“Get these goddamn mutherfucking cables off my back. I’m finished. . .”
His sweet and lovely Miyamoto with Bushidō catlike precision removes a dragon-headed handled katana and shaves off each one of the mounts strategically attached to his muscular back with the razor-sharp shita-kitae blade with the craftsmanship of a professional plastic surgeon without leaving a mark.
Her sweet as honey, harmoniously hypnotizing, smooth as silk, smoky voice radiating through her very luscious and alluring lips in Japanese:
“Watashi no ai, anata wa Harry Diderot-san ni ushinatta. Anata no shūchū to shūchū wa, saikin, hoka no gaibu no rieki ni natte irukara. . .”
He seems to be enjoying the quiet, silent lucidity escapism from the rigmaroles of everyday life in the United Championship Infinite but on the inside his mind and body were fuming with raging fury. His heart rate was a very relaxed 40 beats a minute as the oxygen in his blood helped the preternatural powers of his mind’s eye remain focused and alert to the surroundings around him as he translates her Japanese, “My love, you lost to Harry Diderot because your focus and concentration have been on other outside interests lately. . .”
“I just don't really give a fuck about what anyone thinks about me in this organization anymore. . .”
She can sense the raging fury burning in his mind’s eye behind his sparkling blue eyes in a predatory manner that still shows how passionate he is about defending an organization that has always shown bitter resentment and righteous indignation towards everything that is representative in his very own existence.
“Sono wazurawashi-sa, fukai-kan, tekii no kyōretsuna kanshoku wa, anata no omoiyari no aru jishin to tekitai-tekina gōman-sa, mujihina sōsa to akui no aru eikyō-ryoku no aru shinri-tekina taido no utsubo-sei no men de kokoro no jōtai ni naru to, jijō en oyobi seirigaku-teki sukiru setto no utsubo-sei ga shikakkei no en no uchigawa ni aru. . .”
He wasn't really in any kind of mood to listen to any kind of lecture as he translates her Japanese, “That strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, and hostility has always been what has kept your concentration in complete focus when it comes to your state of mind in terms of your condescending confidence and antagonistic arrogance and ruthlessly manipulative and unscrupulous influential psychological mindset toughness outside of the squared-circle and physiological skillset toughness inside of the squared-circle. . .”
“The UCI Hierarchy, every wrestler in the back, and the UCI Fandom that have chosen me as their Face of the Franchise, The Whole F’N Show, Mr. UCI, or whatever expletive that they want to put in front of my name can shove that thought right up their ass. . .”
He was laying on his back on the Non-Skid Decking of the Diamond Plate Lined Passenger Floor of the lead airboat with his arm resting over his face and covering his sparkling blue eyes.
“They really think that they can put together this so-called, self-proclaimed Team UCI without the one man that went back to that second-rate organization with third-rate talent and came out with a Top 10 finish at their WAR XVI without even being in that piss-ant organization for over a year and a half and come out victorious in another predetermined second-rate organization's Pay-Per-View? Fuck ‘em. . .”
He had a Blu electronic cigarette (product placement) in his mouth puffing and blowing out a series of vapor rings up into the air. The first series of vapor rings seems to turn into question marks in a “riddle me this, riddle me that” style gesture.
“I can understand Spencer Adams and Zombie McMorris picking their nose and coming up with the current tag-team Champions, Bonnie Blue and Alex Richards, but do they actually think that Kevin Bishop and Andre Holmes really give a fuck about this organization more than they do about their very own personal gain in the WCF?. . .”
The second series of vapor rings seems to tell the story of the real Andre Holmes and the real Kevin Bishop by blowing smoke up everyone's dresses in this organization.
“Andre spit on this organization and his reputation when he kissed Seth Lerch’s ass like everyone else that had to run back to that second-rate organization because he couldn't dominate the talent in this organization like he could dominate the third-rate talent in that second-rate organization. . .”
The next series of vapor rings seems to show the real Andre Holmes and the real Kevin Bishop fighting it out to see who gets the privilege of becoming Seth Lerch’s Ass-man.
“And then there's Kevin Bishop, geezus Kev, where do his true loyalties really lie? Every time Seth Lerch dangles the WCF World Championship like a carrot over his fathead, he’s always the first one galloping behind Seth Lerch waiting for him to bend over to kiss his ass like the gullible jackass that he really is when getting delusions of grandeur thinking that anyone who is still affiliated with a rival organization like the UCI would actually become the WCF World Champion. . .”
She seems to be mysteriously conjuring up a mystical spell over him just by her mere presence as she starts twirling his classically masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair through her fingers with carnal fascination and malignant pleasure knowing that no matter what he says or what he does, he can do no wrong because he will always be one of the original central foundational cornerstones in the birth, growth, development, and preservation of the United Championship Infinite.
==============================
A stark white stretch limousine, with a 10” lift and 38” rims and the toughest, most versatile off-road tires ever made, 38.5X14.50X15C Interco Super Swamper TSL/SX Bias-Ply tires with Vantablack mud flaps with a 3 1/2" by 2 1/4" chrome sexy cowgirl insignia and personalized license plate “Hariuddoburondo”, intertwines its way through Durham, North Carolina.
Your favorite modern day charismatic and charming, egotistical, narcissistic, politically incorrect, felicitating, self-righteous, second-generation megalomaniac and apex predator, "The Handsome Half-breed" Shadowlove, was sitting in the rich Corinthian leather seat staring at himself with a fixed, almost vacant expression reflecting from the dark smoke tinted window of the limousine.
He was running his hands through his classic masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown showing off his fighter's face while looking into the dark smoke tinted window with an ice cold stare radiating from his sparkling blue eyes. He had a Blu electronic cigarette (product placement) in his mouth puffing and blowing out a series of vapor rings up into the air.
His heart rate was a very relaxed 40 beats a minute as the oxygen in his blood helped the preternatural powers of his mind’s eye remain focused and alert to the surroundings around him. He seems to be enjoying the quiet, silent lucidity escapism from the rigmaroles of everyday life in the United Championship Infinite.
He was stripped to the waist showing off the upper body of a Greek God, with washboard abs, in a newly fresh and crisp custom-made Calvin Klein stark liquid white leather trench-coat with fringe along with his custom-made Calvin Klein crocodile skinned pants and custom-made Calvin Klein alligator skinned boots.
Quietly, to himself, he appears to be lip syncing a song, “UNSTOPPABLE” by Sia, that he was listening to on his (product placement) custom-made special edition Beats Studio gloss white wireless headphones:
His personal bodyguard/valet and “Fashionista Sensei”, Ms. Miyamoto, was in her proper place sitting next to him and cradling against his muscular body and moving very little, never turning her head, or revealing any kind of expression that gives the viewing audience at home a clue as to her innermost thoughts with the exception of a very sharp and penetrating affection and devilishly delicious, malevolent and pleasurable, mischievously smile coming from her very luscious and alluring lips while caressing his muscular chest with her fingers.
Her raven black hair was pulled back in a French braid showing off her angelic looking face with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes hidden behind a pair of RayBan sunglasses strategically placed on her perfectly flawless nose.
Her attractively well-proportioned, slim, trim, toned body built for sin encased in a form-fitting shimmering silver and Vantablack Mandarin sequin dress with a French-cut up the side to her thigh designed by Stella McCartney and Vantablack Jimmy Choo stilettos. Her sweet as honey, harmoniously hypnotizing, smooth as silk, smoky voice radiating through her very luscious and alluring lips in Spanish:
“El Payaso Loco-san. . .”
She lowers her RayBan sunglasses down her perfectly flawless nose on her angelic looking face showing off her intoxicating and incandescent almond shaped green eyes of the Goddess of the Rising Sun and a 21st century female samurai warrior known for her bravery and strength.
“Nunca se sabe qué guapo mestizo Shadowlove-san va a aparecer en Overload en Durham. Y eso es muy, muy malo para ti. ¿Vas a enfrentarte a The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove-san basado en el United Championship Infinite? O, ¿te enfrentarás a The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove-san, que está siendo apartado del United Championship Infinite por el vórtice de la realidad de las realidades del mundo de la vida cotidiana que en realidad existe para él, en oposición a la ideología idealista de la silenciosa y silenciosa escapismo de lucidez de los calabozos de la vida cotidiana en el United Championship Infinite?. . .”
He wasn't really in any kind of mood to listen to anything that has to do with El Payaso Loco and this match on Overload as he translates her Spanish, “You never know which Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove is going to show up on Overload in Durham. And that is very, very bad for you. Are you going to be facing The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove that is based in the United Championship Infinite? Or, are you going to be facing The Handsome Half-breed Shadowlove that is being pulled away from the United Championship Infinite by the vortex of violence of the realities of the world of everyday life that actually exists for him as opposed to the idealistic ideology of the quiet, silent lucidity escapism from the rigmaroles of everyday life in the United Championship Infinite?. . .”
He flicks the Blu electronic cigarette into the camera but instead of his low dusky voice ringing out fully, with all the charm and charisma that one can muster, mister as if he is about to get down to business of painting his masterpiece, his patented malevolent, tight wolfish, whiplash smile, slowly appearing on his lips showing off perfectly white even teeth on his chiseled fighter's face in a “I have the one thing that every man, woman, and child fears, my sweet and lovely Miyamoto. And I will take you to the one place that everyone fears and deliver upon you, The Dark Gift. You see, The Dark Gift isn't like any other finisher in the sports entertainment business. Oh, no, some people need a handful of finishers just to survive El Payaso Loco. But why, when all you only need is just ONE. ONE to defeat El Payaso Loco. The Dark Gift is that living, breathing omnipotence, omnipresence, omniscience and truly ostentatious indulgence when it takes on a life of its own and simply ends El Payaso Loco, just like you never even existed at Overload” Jake The Snake Roberts stylistic shit-eating grin.
She pauses. Then. . .
She looks at the viewing audience at home with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes and showing no emotion on her angelic looking face then slices her own throat from her left carotid artery to her right carotid artery with her right index finger and makes an imaginary blood explosion style gesture with her left hand.
Then. . .
She raises her RayBan sunglasses up her perfectly flawless nose on her angelic looking face while hiding her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes with her middle finger.
THIS IS THE END, MY ONLY FRIEND. . . THE END!