Post by hayden on May 1, 2012 16:18:58 GMT -6
::: The backstage area is the setting. Hayden Raine is in the middle of reading a letter that was attached to his door. He stops and laughs for just a minute and throws the paper ball over his shoulder and it bounces off of the forehead of Jeff Jackson and lands right in the garbage can:::
Jeff Jackson::: “Boy I know you have things on your mind. But you pull some shit like that again, and I will have to come out of this self imposed retirement for about 5 minutes and stomp a major hole in your chest.”
Hayden Raine ::: “What the hell are you talking about now?”
Jeff Jackson::: “Boy you know damn well what I’m talking about. I may not be signed up to Odyssey Wrestling, but I’ll have no problem busting your ass for about five minutes right here in your dressing room. Hit me in the head with some more garbage, see if I’m kidding.”
Hayden Raine ::: “They announced they were only doing one more season of Smallville didn’t they?”
Jeff Jackson::: “Best damn show on television, and instead they want to run with some Martian Manhunter series next year. What if we head west and bust that Phil dead in his Morris? Then if he ain’t able to do that stupid ass show, maybe they keep Welling and the costume clowns around a few more years.”
Hayden Raine ::: “Your shows just seemed to be doomed. I mean first Buffy, then Angel, then that fucking show with Chiklis. Now Smallville? Leave the good shows alone. You start watching Rescue Me and I’ll choke you.”
Jeff Jackson::: “So anyway Dr. Delusional. What was that letter all about?”
Hyaden Raine ::: “That fucking Nero. She’s another one just like you. Talks a lot of shit, but once she gets put in the position to back the shit up, changes the damn subject. She’s being nice enough to remind me she expects me to do a shitload of promos to push this fucking joke match idea.. Like I give a fuck. Tell you right now Jeff. Nero keeps trying to toss some weight around with me, I will bust that bitch right in the cap. I mean it. That spot right above the forehead will become close acquaintances with my right hand. Sounds like Sunday Night I might just have to remind him and everyone else in this place where the true power lays. It’s not given by the handshake of Nero, or because the fans like to lick your ass and the teenie boppers wanna scream loud enough they piss their fucking pants. Not at all. Truth is, power is made, by power being taken. But right now seems like Nero is content to do what she can to piss me off and to keep on running her mouth in a cheap attempt at protecting her fucking investment!”
Jeff Jackson::: “Wait, why would she have issues with you anyways? I mean didn’t a bunch of you guys tell Tees to go to hell to come here? Wouldn’t it be more effective to try and kiss your ass to make sure that you can be there to help her out again this time instead of possibly you going after her cronies?”
Hayden Raine ::: “My point exactly. But hey, she wants to throw around her money, fuck it, throw it around. Matter of fact, I am gonna help her throw it around. I have a camera-crew and some props being sent over as we speak…”
::: Hayden is interrupted by a knocking at the door. Hayden opens it. :::
Production Assistant ::: “Mister Raine. We have the film crew you asked for. And then this crate has the props you ordered as well. Where should we set up?”
Hayden Raine ::: “Right back there will be fine, leave the props over by him.”
::: The crate is pushed next to Jackson who opens it up. The contents make his eyes pop open wide in disbelief. The film crew set up the Black Backdrop and get in position to start filming the promo. Hayden heads over to Jackson and starts pulling various props out. He pulls out a paper vendors hat, a cooks hat, a metal cap looking device with wires jutted out from the top of it and a leather strap hanging from one side. He pulls out some hot pink tights, a dusty cowboy hat, a blow up monkey, and what looks like a rolled up poster. He hands the poster to Jackson. Jeff pulls the rubber band off the poster and slowly starts to unroll it as he looks at it. Almost looking like he is going to be sick, he looks up and Hayden, then looks back down. He looks at the poster and back at Hayden again before looking back down.:::[/i]
Jeff Jackson::: “Not on a fucking dare Raine!”
Hayden Raine ::: “Why not? All you have to do is stand there and hold that poster high in the air when the time is right. I’ll do the rest.”
Jeff Jackson::: “Fuck that! That means I have to look at the damn thing again! I am already gonna have fucking nightmares, I ain’t in this damn match dude! That’s just sick right there. You are a sick fuck. Damn man, the carnage in that image is disturbing!”
Hyaden Raine ::: “I have my reasons for doing this Jeff. If I am going to make my point, I need these things. All of them. Are you gonna help me or what?”
Jeff Jackson::: “You are fucking sick Hayden. And can I ask what this blow up monkey is for?”
Hayden Raine ::: “Well. Vincent Cross, and Casper Blud are in this match too right? I thought this might keep their minds elsewhere. You know these idiots. Anything that blows up and these guys fall in love. Whatcha think? Too much?”
Jeff Jackson::: “Okay so we have a backdrop for the promo. You have a blowup monkey in that chair wearing a leather jacket, a vendor’s paper hat, and holding a black bat. And you have a box of lubricant, some rubber gloves, and a stuffed animal of the sheep from American Mattress.”
Jackson and Raine together ::: “CROSS!”
Jeff Jackson::: “Got it! You know something Hayden, just do your promo for the match Sunday Night and let’s go have a few beers. How about that?”
Hayden Raine ::: “I guess. But I really think this would be more fun. Besides, I was told the legendary Eric DaFoe was walking around the halls just recently, he might be around Sunday night. I want to welcome him the right way. I got some props for that one too.”[/color]
Jeff Jackson::: “Hayden!”
Hayden Raine ::: “What?!”
::: We flash into the center of the ring in The Coliseum Stadium with a huge Domination backdrop hanging on one side. A couple of cameramen are set up in the remaining two corners to get the best perspective of the superstar speaking. Jackson stands just to the left and behind Hayden Raine still with that poster under his arm. Hayden Raine is standing in the center of the ring as they line him up and count him down. :::
Hayden Raine ::: “So the braintrust in the OW, and I really use that term lightly, have some friends for me to meet again Sunday night I understand. These friends are going to be what stands between me and yet another victory to add to my collection. These are what Nero, and NNY have put together as the best of the best and the cream of the crop. They have paid them millions of collective dollars to lead this company into the next generation, but still with each of them given a directive by Nero and NNY. Whatever you do, get rid of Hayden Raine! So that means this is talent judged by both of my good buddies Nero and NNY, and knowing just that, I am already shaking in my boots. I can almost already imagine what is in store for me in this match. Let me guess, sock puppets, beheaded G.I. Joes, Flaming Fruit-fairies, wanna be thugs, tough guys, guys who’s face should be on the side of a box of fucking Fruit Loops, and Ken dolls dressed in black and hot pink right? Let me ask you something. Do I seem to really give a rat’s ass? Even in the slightest? I am Hayden Fucking Raine, and truth be told, it’s about Fucking time you people started to remember that. I have no problem driving the issue home, and we can seriously start with my fist down the throats of the so called Powers That Be. I got news for everyone in the back. Things have changed. The true King is back to show why he should be at the top of the mountain and he is pissed. As of this moment…the Power that be…well that’s me! Carve it through your thick ass skulls and commit it to permanent memory jackasses! It’s just the Fucking way it is! You Fucking newbies in the dressing rooms wanna grab your first shot at some gold? Make a name for yourself? Grab your little 15 seconds of fame? That’s always fine by me.
At any point, feel free to step up just to get beat the Fuck back down! You come on and get into the ring when you see Hayden Raine standing there waiting. But you are gonna have to do it, already understanding that if you survive being launched like a Fucking human cannon straight over into a barbed wire table…and if gravity is my friend at all I will get that extra chuckle watching each of you landing on your Fucking skulls… that the only thing that could quite possibly be left for any of you to try and support your families, your drug habits, or in Vincent Cross's case, your male bath and massage fetishes, is by standing on the freeway exits selling your bags of oranges or ankle high socks again because sunday night, when that bell rings, and your name is called, you will at some point have to step into that ring, and when I come down, be it first, last, or any Fucking point in between, I am going to rip your Fucking heads right off. And it will be all my fault, and I’ll feel oh so bad about it. Might even have to run out and rent some Winona Ryder films like Heather’s to comfort myself for a little while. Maybe some romantic comedy with Natalie Portman, or Selma Hayek. Hell, might just get Selma to come over herself and comfort me, who knows. What I do know is I am tired of saps like all you Fucks trying to make your way through my business because you feel you are owed something. Or goofballs like the jerkoffs in this match who try and claim to be just like me, legendary, championship calibur. Truth be told, I have seen garden gnomes with more manhood, more champion leveled talent than Fuckchops like you two bit coat tail riding halfwits. Don’t worry about being like me you sorry sad saps, worry about me standing in front of you in that ring with your puissant tiny little necks in my hand and me squeezing the Fucking life out of you. Then worry about what I might have in store for this new NASA like launching plan I have for what’s left of any of you. Might just have to freshen my skills and hone up on the rules for lawn darts. In the meantime, Sunday night I am going to make any chair shots any of you have ever been privy too seem like a damn love taps. And the bleeding you suffer…well that might just be my fault too."
::: Hayden walks across the ring as he pauses before heading back and looking into the opposing camera motioning with his finger for them to do a close up. :::
Hayden Raine ::: “Gentlemen, looks like the time has finally come. The real deal, the only man with the true credentials to be called a legend in the wrestling world is stepping back up to defend what will always be considered his family. Bathory. But the program, and all these Fucking promos that these other freaks are wasting time and money at recording hoping that even for a second, one of you guys is actually buying into the delusions, would have you to believe that anyone can win this match, everyone can actually stand a shot at being called the victor. Let’s see, so far on the list of legends there is Vincent Cross and Casper Blud. See, that’s what makes a legend in this business a legend. You take on, beat the holy hell out of the ones that people think are on your level, massacre the ones that don’t belong in the same room as you, and then like yesterday’s garbage, you grab each of them like a bag of crop and send them flying. No postage, no destination. Just up, over, down, and splat!. All of these, pretenders, supposed contenders, and wanna be legends will fell and fall…… to your Twisted Torture. But now, another name has come out of the hallowed woodworking and there is another legend whose head will fit nicely on my mantle. He is a man I have lost to, and heard a lot of the chatter of being the one man who will spell my demise. A man with a reputation of being almost as great as yours truly. And he also just happens to be the only real down to earth warriors I have fought recently in this business next to Jeff Jackson. But now the time may have come for Hayden Raine to rewrite history and if need be, should you stand in my way Spaz, I will have no choice but to hoist you up into the air and drop you on the white colored milk dud of a skull of yours and send you a flyin as well.
Like I said before people, now Mesterio Raine is home, and now he will reclaim what he still rightfully owns.
You have began a great legacy of your own haven’t you Mr. Cross? You have done some amazing things in past companies like AW. But in terms of being considered a true warrior, a true champion, a true pillar of things to come, when the real men ran that place you were nowhere to be found. Back when it…well…when the place truly mattered now were you? You knew you couldn’t handle the pressure of having the chance to be double champion so what did you do Cross? I’ll tell you what you did. You took a beatting and ran away to the back instead of trying to win. But now, well Cross, now you find yourself in a match where it is very possible that you will have to look into the eyes of the real champion. But anyway you try to run from the truth, You will have another kind of streak Cross. I promise. It will either be the yellow one down your fucking spine when you piss yourself standing across from me, or the brown one in your shorts as you find yourself sailing into the The Coliseum Stadium sky praying to land on something soft. Maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe Casper will be slowly making his way up the ramp and you can land on his fat ass. I’ll do what I can for you. See Cross, until you have stepped into the ring with the real me, until you have put these arms and shoulders to the mat, and taken a legitamit from me you have done nothing. Absolutely nothing. You and I both know it and it’s eating you alive.
The one thing all these idiots in the back have in common is the dream, as far fetched as it might be, that this Sunday night one of them can do the unthinkable and give themselves some momentum towards winning Bathory's fate. It’s gonna happen. Live on Domination. A new kind of warrior will step forward to lead the OW into a very bright and promising future. And in this case to go forward, first it has to go back. Its not a child, but a legend that shall lead them! It's only fate!
SO IT WAS WRITTEN…SO SHALL IT COME TO PASS…”
Jeff Jackson::: “Hayden! Wait, before you do that. The poster dude. The poster.”
Hayden Raine ::: “Oh yeah, my special gift to my buddy Nero and her errand boys. I had this picture blown up for you. Hope you like it.”
Jackson and Raine unroll the poster to reveal a picture of former WWA personality Angel, otherwise known as Skittles, wearing, well lets be honest, we have no idea because if there is clothing, the huge massive rolls are sucking it in and covering it up. She looks like the Jaba The Hut scene from Return of the Jedi, and now also in that picture looking to be partying with the round mound of hundreds of pounds are Nero wearing a cowboy hat and black bikini, with Cross and Casper watering her with soup ladles, but all smiling from ear to ear. :::
Hayden Raine :::“AND SO SHALL HAYDEN RAINE…DESTROY YOUR FUCKING ASSES!”
:::The sounds of the cameramen and ringside attendants vomiting at what they just had to look at add a great soundtrack to the promo as it fades to black. :::
Jeff Jackson::: “Boy I know you have things on your mind. But you pull some shit like that again, and I will have to come out of this self imposed retirement for about 5 minutes and stomp a major hole in your chest.”
Hayden Raine ::: “What the hell are you talking about now?”
Jeff Jackson::: “Boy you know damn well what I’m talking about. I may not be signed up to Odyssey Wrestling, but I’ll have no problem busting your ass for about five minutes right here in your dressing room. Hit me in the head with some more garbage, see if I’m kidding.”
Hayden Raine ::: “They announced they were only doing one more season of Smallville didn’t they?”
Jeff Jackson::: “Best damn show on television, and instead they want to run with some Martian Manhunter series next year. What if we head west and bust that Phil dead in his Morris? Then if he ain’t able to do that stupid ass show, maybe they keep Welling and the costume clowns around a few more years.”
Hayden Raine ::: “Your shows just seemed to be doomed. I mean first Buffy, then Angel, then that fucking show with Chiklis. Now Smallville? Leave the good shows alone. You start watching Rescue Me and I’ll choke you.”
Jeff Jackson::: “So anyway Dr. Delusional. What was that letter all about?”
Hyaden Raine ::: “That fucking Nero. She’s another one just like you. Talks a lot of shit, but once she gets put in the position to back the shit up, changes the damn subject. She’s being nice enough to remind me she expects me to do a shitload of promos to push this fucking joke match idea.. Like I give a fuck. Tell you right now Jeff. Nero keeps trying to toss some weight around with me, I will bust that bitch right in the cap. I mean it. That spot right above the forehead will become close acquaintances with my right hand. Sounds like Sunday Night I might just have to remind him and everyone else in this place where the true power lays. It’s not given by the handshake of Nero, or because the fans like to lick your ass and the teenie boppers wanna scream loud enough they piss their fucking pants. Not at all. Truth is, power is made, by power being taken. But right now seems like Nero is content to do what she can to piss me off and to keep on running her mouth in a cheap attempt at protecting her fucking investment!”
Jeff Jackson::: “Wait, why would she have issues with you anyways? I mean didn’t a bunch of you guys tell Tees to go to hell to come here? Wouldn’t it be more effective to try and kiss your ass to make sure that you can be there to help her out again this time instead of possibly you going after her cronies?”
Hayden Raine ::: “My point exactly. But hey, she wants to throw around her money, fuck it, throw it around. Matter of fact, I am gonna help her throw it around. I have a camera-crew and some props being sent over as we speak…”
::: Hayden is interrupted by a knocking at the door. Hayden opens it. :::
Production Assistant ::: “Mister Raine. We have the film crew you asked for. And then this crate has the props you ordered as well. Where should we set up?”
Hayden Raine ::: “Right back there will be fine, leave the props over by him.”
::: The crate is pushed next to Jackson who opens it up. The contents make his eyes pop open wide in disbelief. The film crew set up the Black Backdrop and get in position to start filming the promo. Hayden heads over to Jackson and starts pulling various props out. He pulls out a paper vendors hat, a cooks hat, a metal cap looking device with wires jutted out from the top of it and a leather strap hanging from one side. He pulls out some hot pink tights, a dusty cowboy hat, a blow up monkey, and what looks like a rolled up poster. He hands the poster to Jackson. Jeff pulls the rubber band off the poster and slowly starts to unroll it as he looks at it. Almost looking like he is going to be sick, he looks up and Hayden, then looks back down. He looks at the poster and back at Hayden again before looking back down.:::[/i]
Jeff Jackson::: “Not on a fucking dare Raine!”
Hayden Raine ::: “Why not? All you have to do is stand there and hold that poster high in the air when the time is right. I’ll do the rest.”
Jeff Jackson::: “Fuck that! That means I have to look at the damn thing again! I am already gonna have fucking nightmares, I ain’t in this damn match dude! That’s just sick right there. You are a sick fuck. Damn man, the carnage in that image is disturbing!”
Hyaden Raine ::: “I have my reasons for doing this Jeff. If I am going to make my point, I need these things. All of them. Are you gonna help me or what?”
Jeff Jackson::: “You are fucking sick Hayden. And can I ask what this blow up monkey is for?”
Hayden Raine ::: “Well. Vincent Cross, and Casper Blud are in this match too right? I thought this might keep their minds elsewhere. You know these idiots. Anything that blows up and these guys fall in love. Whatcha think? Too much?”
Jeff Jackson::: “Okay so we have a backdrop for the promo. You have a blowup monkey in that chair wearing a leather jacket, a vendor’s paper hat, and holding a black bat. And you have a box of lubricant, some rubber gloves, and a stuffed animal of the sheep from American Mattress.”
Jackson and Raine together ::: “CROSS!”
Jeff Jackson::: “Got it! You know something Hayden, just do your promo for the match Sunday Night and let’s go have a few beers. How about that?”
Hayden Raine ::: “I guess. But I really think this would be more fun. Besides, I was told the legendary Eric DaFoe was walking around the halls just recently, he might be around Sunday night. I want to welcome him the right way. I got some props for that one too.”[/color]
Jeff Jackson::: “Hayden!”
Hayden Raine ::: “What?!”
::: We flash into the center of the ring in The Coliseum Stadium with a huge Domination backdrop hanging on one side. A couple of cameramen are set up in the remaining two corners to get the best perspective of the superstar speaking. Jackson stands just to the left and behind Hayden Raine still with that poster under his arm. Hayden Raine is standing in the center of the ring as they line him up and count him down. :::
Hayden Raine ::: “So the braintrust in the OW, and I really use that term lightly, have some friends for me to meet again Sunday night I understand. These friends are going to be what stands between me and yet another victory to add to my collection. These are what Nero, and NNY have put together as the best of the best and the cream of the crop. They have paid them millions of collective dollars to lead this company into the next generation, but still with each of them given a directive by Nero and NNY. Whatever you do, get rid of Hayden Raine! So that means this is talent judged by both of my good buddies Nero and NNY, and knowing just that, I am already shaking in my boots. I can almost already imagine what is in store for me in this match. Let me guess, sock puppets, beheaded G.I. Joes, Flaming Fruit-fairies, wanna be thugs, tough guys, guys who’s face should be on the side of a box of fucking Fruit Loops, and Ken dolls dressed in black and hot pink right? Let me ask you something. Do I seem to really give a rat’s ass? Even in the slightest? I am Hayden Fucking Raine, and truth be told, it’s about Fucking time you people started to remember that. I have no problem driving the issue home, and we can seriously start with my fist down the throats of the so called Powers That Be. I got news for everyone in the back. Things have changed. The true King is back to show why he should be at the top of the mountain and he is pissed. As of this moment…the Power that be…well that’s me! Carve it through your thick ass skulls and commit it to permanent memory jackasses! It’s just the Fucking way it is! You Fucking newbies in the dressing rooms wanna grab your first shot at some gold? Make a name for yourself? Grab your little 15 seconds of fame? That’s always fine by me.
At any point, feel free to step up just to get beat the Fuck back down! You come on and get into the ring when you see Hayden Raine standing there waiting. But you are gonna have to do it, already understanding that if you survive being launched like a Fucking human cannon straight over into a barbed wire table…and if gravity is my friend at all I will get that extra chuckle watching each of you landing on your Fucking skulls… that the only thing that could quite possibly be left for any of you to try and support your families, your drug habits, or in Vincent Cross's case, your male bath and massage fetishes, is by standing on the freeway exits selling your bags of oranges or ankle high socks again because sunday night, when that bell rings, and your name is called, you will at some point have to step into that ring, and when I come down, be it first, last, or any Fucking point in between, I am going to rip your Fucking heads right off. And it will be all my fault, and I’ll feel oh so bad about it. Might even have to run out and rent some Winona Ryder films like Heather’s to comfort myself for a little while. Maybe some romantic comedy with Natalie Portman, or Selma Hayek. Hell, might just get Selma to come over herself and comfort me, who knows. What I do know is I am tired of saps like all you Fucks trying to make your way through my business because you feel you are owed something. Or goofballs like the jerkoffs in this match who try and claim to be just like me, legendary, championship calibur. Truth be told, I have seen garden gnomes with more manhood, more champion leveled talent than Fuckchops like you two bit coat tail riding halfwits. Don’t worry about being like me you sorry sad saps, worry about me standing in front of you in that ring with your puissant tiny little necks in my hand and me squeezing the Fucking life out of you. Then worry about what I might have in store for this new NASA like launching plan I have for what’s left of any of you. Might just have to freshen my skills and hone up on the rules for lawn darts. In the meantime, Sunday night I am going to make any chair shots any of you have ever been privy too seem like a damn love taps. And the bleeding you suffer…well that might just be my fault too."
::: Hayden walks across the ring as he pauses before heading back and looking into the opposing camera motioning with his finger for them to do a close up. :::
Hayden Raine ::: “Gentlemen, looks like the time has finally come. The real deal, the only man with the true credentials to be called a legend in the wrestling world is stepping back up to defend what will always be considered his family. Bathory. But the program, and all these Fucking promos that these other freaks are wasting time and money at recording hoping that even for a second, one of you guys is actually buying into the delusions, would have you to believe that anyone can win this match, everyone can actually stand a shot at being called the victor. Let’s see, so far on the list of legends there is Vincent Cross and Casper Blud. See, that’s what makes a legend in this business a legend. You take on, beat the holy hell out of the ones that people think are on your level, massacre the ones that don’t belong in the same room as you, and then like yesterday’s garbage, you grab each of them like a bag of crop and send them flying. No postage, no destination. Just up, over, down, and splat!. All of these, pretenders, supposed contenders, and wanna be legends will fell and fall…… to your Twisted Torture. But now, another name has come out of the hallowed woodworking and there is another legend whose head will fit nicely on my mantle. He is a man I have lost to, and heard a lot of the chatter of being the one man who will spell my demise. A man with a reputation of being almost as great as yours truly. And he also just happens to be the only real down to earth warriors I have fought recently in this business next to Jeff Jackson. But now the time may have come for Hayden Raine to rewrite history and if need be, should you stand in my way Spaz, I will have no choice but to hoist you up into the air and drop you on the white colored milk dud of a skull of yours and send you a flyin as well.
Like I said before people, now Mesterio Raine is home, and now he will reclaim what he still rightfully owns.
You have began a great legacy of your own haven’t you Mr. Cross? You have done some amazing things in past companies like AW. But in terms of being considered a true warrior, a true champion, a true pillar of things to come, when the real men ran that place you were nowhere to be found. Back when it…well…when the place truly mattered now were you? You knew you couldn’t handle the pressure of having the chance to be double champion so what did you do Cross? I’ll tell you what you did. You took a beatting and ran away to the back instead of trying to win. But now, well Cross, now you find yourself in a match where it is very possible that you will have to look into the eyes of the real champion. But anyway you try to run from the truth, You will have another kind of streak Cross. I promise. It will either be the yellow one down your fucking spine when you piss yourself standing across from me, or the brown one in your shorts as you find yourself sailing into the The Coliseum Stadium sky praying to land on something soft. Maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe Casper will be slowly making his way up the ramp and you can land on his fat ass. I’ll do what I can for you. See Cross, until you have stepped into the ring with the real me, until you have put these arms and shoulders to the mat, and taken a legitamit from me you have done nothing. Absolutely nothing. You and I both know it and it’s eating you alive.
The one thing all these idiots in the back have in common is the dream, as far fetched as it might be, that this Sunday night one of them can do the unthinkable and give themselves some momentum towards winning Bathory's fate. It’s gonna happen. Live on Domination. A new kind of warrior will step forward to lead the OW into a very bright and promising future. And in this case to go forward, first it has to go back. Its not a child, but a legend that shall lead them! It's only fate!
SO IT WAS WRITTEN…SO SHALL IT COME TO PASS…”
Jeff Jackson::: “Hayden! Wait, before you do that. The poster dude. The poster.”
Hayden Raine ::: “Oh yeah, my special gift to my buddy Nero and her errand boys. I had this picture blown up for you. Hope you like it.”
Jackson and Raine unroll the poster to reveal a picture of former WWA personality Angel, otherwise known as Skittles, wearing, well lets be honest, we have no idea because if there is clothing, the huge massive rolls are sucking it in and covering it up. She looks like the Jaba The Hut scene from Return of the Jedi, and now also in that picture looking to be partying with the round mound of hundreds of pounds are Nero wearing a cowboy hat and black bikini, with Cross and Casper watering her with soup ladles, but all smiling from ear to ear. :::
Hayden Raine :::“AND SO SHALL HAYDEN RAINE…DESTROY YOUR FUCKING ASSES!”
:::The sounds of the cameramen and ringside attendants vomiting at what they just had to look at add a great soundtrack to the promo as it fades to black. :::