Post by Your JESUS on Apr 18, 2013 13:51:11 GMT -4
-Training Day-
The lights of on coming cars run past my view as my hand rests on top of the steering wheel. The smell of leather pierces my senses as we drive in silence. That's right we...as in Sabur, Jason Kash and myself. I thankfully made it out of that God forsaken neighborhood we just picked up our friendly toothless hero of mischief. If being in Paraguay wasn't enough of a downgrade, my new stable mate forces me to explore the gritty side of this shit hole. I haven't been much of a people person, haven't been one to look toward others for guidance. Every previous partnership I have entered in whether it's tag team or faction, it usually ended in an reasonably questionable fashion. This time I can not explain it, this time I can not put my finger on the exact reason why, but it just seems like a perfect fit. Some months ago I made myself known on Asylum by offering up some questions for Jason Kash. I saw something fantastically chaotic in this talented son of a bitch who rides shot gun as we speak. What a difference time can make. Here I am on a different show, rolling with a few new faces, and everything that really ignites the fire inside me within my grasp. With that I glare toward Kash who seems rather focused in intensity, lost within his own thoughts.
Lively: Hey! Hey...
Kash turns my direction.
Lively: Why do you lace em up?
Jason looks toward his new stable mate soaking in the question before letting his answer rip.
Jason Kash: I lace up because it's what I've done my entire life. I've fought to survive and this was an easy transition. Something about knocking someones head around gets the blood flowing. As soon as I step on stage, all the problems of the world pause for however long the match lasts. It's my addiction...
Lively: Nice... let me ask you this then, are you a champion?
Kash clearly not having the title of champion at the moment has tasted the Gold as have I and wonders if I am being cryptic. He answers but in an unconvincing manor.
Jason Kash: Yes...Yes I am a champion!!
As I continue to drive I hold my right arm to the back seat where Sabur hands me a pipe. I place it in my lap then reach for the tin foil wad the big man hands over.
Lively: A true champion, a real champion has to have Gold running in his blood. Even when we are without championships the Gold, it must flow in our blood stream!!!
With that I fumble with the tin foil opening it up. I smirk toward Kash as I drive and try to dump what seems like Golden dust into the pipe, I hold the pipe up sniffing it with a sick smile.
Jason Kash: What is that?
Lively: Gold Dust!!
Jason Kash: What...what are you going to do, smoke that?
Lively: NOPE, YOU ARE!!!
I hand the pipe toward Jason Kash. The toothless master of violence kind of chuckles as he looks out the window.
Jason Kash: The Hell I am!
Lively: You're not? Why...you a Mormon or something? A JESUS freak?
Kash whips his head toward me as I almost don't even realize the pun I just presented. My eyes just glare toward him with a stern focus.
Jason Kash: I can't do that...it's fucking Gold Dust.
Lively: Smoke it!!!
Kash again just shakes his head no and I lock up the brakes in an intersection. Sabur lunges forward placing his massive bicep around Jason's neck squeezing tight. I turn sideways in the seat looking at the man whose face begins to turn bright red and confusion fills his eyes.
Lively: You know what...I don't want you to be in this group, I don't want any part of anything to do with some candy ass wash up. You know I just recently fired Jerry O'Harrow because I thought we were doing something special, I thought I was associating with champions?? Get the fuck out of the car!!!
Sabur releases his choke on Jason Kash who coughs for air while grabbing his throat. Shocked the man reaches for the door handle then stops looking back at me.
Jason Kash: Fuck it...give it to me!!
Lively: What?
Jason Kash: Fuck it I said, I will smoke it!!!
I hand the pipe over to Jason Kash who at this point is confused, slightly upset, and ready to succumb to peer pressure. He places the pipe in his mouth as I hand him a lighter. The guy sparks the thing to life and brings it close to the pipe. I quickly swat the fucking thing from his mouth knocking it to the floor mats as Gold Dust flutters through the air. Even more baffled the former Grand Slam champion looks at me even more puzzled.
Lively: You were really going to smoke that? Holy shit you are dedicated!!!
Kash kind of looks at me for an explanation.
Lively: Bro...you never seen Training Day? Denzel? Ethan Hawk? I guess I just wanted to bust your balls and see how far you are willing to go.
Sabur: Well I would say this mother fucker is dedicated to the cause.
Lively: Bro you were going to smoke real Gold Dust, do you even know what that would do to you?
Kash flashes a toothless grin my direction as I hit the gas and move the car out of the intersection.
Jason Kash: You are an asshole and I think I owe you one!!
Lively chuckles as his stable mate threatens a returning prank as payback for the little dose of home made Punk'd he just offered up.
-The Time Has Come-
I'd say MY time has come but I have been living in it, Hell you all have been living in MY time. I am a generous human being so to speak, because in MY time others have opportunities to shine. Many men and women have been granted the chances to stand in the shimmering light of glory and taste the sweetness of success as twelve pounds of gold adorned their waists all while living in MY time. You see just because I was sidelined with injury, it didn't mean we closed the book, and started on a new series. No sir this was but a plot twist, in a story that lives, breathes and functions with me as the main character. You are all but supporting staff, and with the turning of the page that brought me to Asylum we begin yet another adventure. You see my plans are rather simple, bring about the destructive, and violent nature in those who have their named inked to contracts on this brand. Violence lives here and all who take a residence in the presence of violence had better embrace her in all her glory. I will tell you this she is a bitch scorned by the abusive powers of those who wish to keep her locked up at home. Like all women she is ready to hit the town, and leave a wake of broken hearts in her path. Violence is tired of doing dishes, sick of folding laundry, no she is ready to rip her clothes off and jump on stage. I may be a woman hater, but I can honestly tell you I am an opportunist. I will feed this fancy ladies hunger for attention, I will build up her need to shine, and be the driving force that puts the bitch known as Violence back on the map.
With that agenda sitting in front of me guiding me like a light I will being to do what only I can do. Meltdown was looked upon as nothing more then a developmental slash wash up show. It was a flat out joke, and something the company just kind of treated like a red headed step child. That was until I descended upon those rankings. Now look at the beauty of a beast I helped mold. That same game changing power is what I bring to Asylum. A show that quite frankly holds some what of the same negative views around the globe. That my friends changes NOW! With in ring debut scheduled this Sunday I have picked a spot in this Infected Vagina of a city to film my promotional piece for this weeks show. Rather then have the entire crew standing beside me, I figured I would let them marinate at the hotel. I plan to cut a little bit of Michael Lively Magic for the Masses with the Harbor of Asuncion as a back drop. As a camera flickers to life to record my words I look toward it with a dastardly smile, almost welcoming everyone surely to watch this footage to show with nothing more then a look. No worries though I have plenty to say...
Lively: Asylum welcomes the the JESUS...how fitting indeed for a Carpenter to be welcomed to a place in dire need of repair. Don't you fret little ones because I am here. Funny though how I look upon myself as the JESUS when my mother looks at me as the Devil she raised. What ever side of the coin you wish to flip it toward makes not a bit of difference to me, because now that I am home, there is truly no place like it. I could bore you with the specifics of my history with this brand and it's birth rite, but most people listening to this will surely not pay attention, and only twist anything said for their own benefit. Instead of dwelling in the past I will break down the future. A future where I see complete anarchy among the Asylum roster, where every match embraces some form of violence, and the show that once electrified masses toward the popularity that gave birth to this somewhat distorted version of something so lovely. Along this journey to the right the wrong,I also fulfill my destiny to hold every title this company has to offer. Just a few belts away from that historic goal, but first we introduce the Dying Breed to Foul Play. The Dying Breed, if I have anything to say about it The Extinct Breed will no longer be clouding this place with their fancy suits, and stale good hearted bullshit.
I take a deep breath as I turn toward the water to continue my rant.
Lively: Let me see what we are dealing with, a group that once had a member by the name Krunk, and somehow he didn't survive. Maybe you are right about a Dying Breed. Needless to say we have the soon to be former tag team champions, and a guy named Billy D. Williams Jr. Well Junior let me say what an honor it is to meet you. Wait a second have we met before? Sorry you must be the type to NOT leave a lasting impression. I guess like your father people would rather forget your body of work. Speaking of that let me address it, you were on Meltdown and you walked out from that show as a former champion??...no just a former guy who fell to Michael Lively in a six man tag match. Funny how things can repeat themselves huh. I hope you remember how that felt and embrace it because deja vu will strike you Sunday. You have tasted no success other then aligning yourself with the tag team champions and spit shinning the belts for them in preparations for hand delivery to Reaver and Kash in the coming months. You are a fucking joke, a technical wrestler on a show based primarily as an extreme environment. It's time to adapt or DIE, and from the sounds of your Breeds Endangerment I'd say I can help you with the latter. I have won a championship in every place I walked into, and Asylum will be no different. Since that's my goal it seems this will be our only interaction with one another and unlike you I will make it one something you can remember. I mean you come at people with cheese dick lines like Getting Chocolate Wasted?? What the fuck?? Are you some perverted Willy Wonka trying to make a stag film. I'm not Veruca Salt, but if you are coming at me frisky like it seems I will surely offer you up the dick for that hungry mouth of yours, because honestly it's fuck what you have to say.
I turn back toward the camera with an evil grin on my face.
Lively: Billy Wonka isn't the only one with the death sentence of extinction, it seems Jair Hopkins is too marked for termination as they say. Hopkins, one half of the tag team champions. I know the responsibilities and struggles of being a title holder. Everyone chomping at the bit, people trying to constantly take what you believe is yours. This life we live is tough enough, and being a tag team champion as of late adds a bit of double duty for what is a strenuous schedule already. Tired, worn down, and not rested. A rotten bastard like myself with a nose for weakness will thrive in that environment. I have this knack to expose that one fragile portion of a mans game. With that knowledge being bestowed upon you Jair, I'm sure you are sitting there thinking to yourself what is that weakness. How can I mask it from a masterful tactician of human chess like Michael Lively. You see you fancy yourself a young talent much like a sponge, trying to soak up all you can. While you are concerned with progression, I am concerned with aggression. I have been up and down the ladder, been damn near everywhere and done everything. A seasoned veteran is what I'm called, yet five years experience is all I have. While you are concerned with your teenage portion of your career I'm concerned with how to carry my massive balls with me toward that ring. You will see like your partners in crime just how heavy of a load I carry, when I empty out the love sack of heaven on the Dying Breed as my christening moment on the Asylum brand. That's right Foul Plays in ring assault on you folks with be something symbolic of the perverted nature of your boy Billy Wonka...the Dying Breed on their knees, mouths opened wide like starving baby birds waiting for the worm. You bitches will get the worm alright!!!
I can't help but laugh in a twisted fashion as I lean against the railing along the viewing perch I am posted on. I fold my arms as if things have just gotten serious.
Lively: Now if there was someone to respect as an opponent in this match...Anthony Bailey...wouldn't be him!!! I mean and I supposed to respect your world title reign? Better yet should I respect your tag title wins? I mean you are the one member of your group to find success in singles competition, so that should garner you something, right? Ehhh...I think not!! I'm the woman hater and from the smell of things we are dealing with a world class Vagina in Anthony Bailey. So I will simply be in my element, disposing of another tampon bloated bitch!!! No matter your past accolades, no matter what ever form of success you have tasted....it doesn't measure up to me. Your so called drive is simply elementary when matched with my Masters Degree in personal dedication toward cementing my name in history as THEE best APW has ever seen. ME in conjunction with Reaver and Kash will add up to be a problem the Dying Breed will not be able to solve. Honestly last week two out of the three couldn't handle our two out of three. Look close at the difference this week will bring. Michael mother fucking Lively and the son Lando Calrissian. The offspring of of a guy whose most notable role in modern film is Undercover Brother? Just like his father Junior isn't a leading man, he's nothing more then a supporting role, riding on the tag team champions coat tails. Like his father he has trouble picking the right role.
I stand up from the guard rail looking right into the camera.
Lively: While you gentlemen claim to be a dying breed, I tell you that I am a thriving breed, a championship pedigree with a violent streak with intentions that can be described as nothing more then FOUL. Sunday night along side with two men with similar beliefs as my own, the game is set and we will PLAY!! People can sum it up as good versus evil, but that statement is nothing more the relative toward the eyes you view it through. Where me and Foul Play stand the Dying Breed are bad guys trying to ruin the Asylum. So you flashy bastards that pander toward the fans will soon be face to face with vigilante superheros who have one goal in mind, and that's spill blood with violent intentions...and from the lessons of history, when a Breed is in danger of Dying the last thing needed is blood to be spilled. None the less the world has thrived quite well without Dinosaurs, Mammoths, Saber-tooth Tigers and I'm sure mother earth won't miss the three of you either!!! THIS IS THE HOME OF FOUL PLAY...THIS IS ASYLUM!!!!!
The lights of on coming cars run past my view as my hand rests on top of the steering wheel. The smell of leather pierces my senses as we drive in silence. That's right we...as in Sabur, Jason Kash and myself. I thankfully made it out of that God forsaken neighborhood we just picked up our friendly toothless hero of mischief. If being in Paraguay wasn't enough of a downgrade, my new stable mate forces me to explore the gritty side of this shit hole. I haven't been much of a people person, haven't been one to look toward others for guidance. Every previous partnership I have entered in whether it's tag team or faction, it usually ended in an reasonably questionable fashion. This time I can not explain it, this time I can not put my finger on the exact reason why, but it just seems like a perfect fit. Some months ago I made myself known on Asylum by offering up some questions for Jason Kash. I saw something fantastically chaotic in this talented son of a bitch who rides shot gun as we speak. What a difference time can make. Here I am on a different show, rolling with a few new faces, and everything that really ignites the fire inside me within my grasp. With that I glare toward Kash who seems rather focused in intensity, lost within his own thoughts.
Lively: Hey! Hey...
Kash turns my direction.
Lively: Why do you lace em up?
Jason looks toward his new stable mate soaking in the question before letting his answer rip.
Jason Kash: I lace up because it's what I've done my entire life. I've fought to survive and this was an easy transition. Something about knocking someones head around gets the blood flowing. As soon as I step on stage, all the problems of the world pause for however long the match lasts. It's my addiction...
Lively: Nice... let me ask you this then, are you a champion?
Kash clearly not having the title of champion at the moment has tasted the Gold as have I and wonders if I am being cryptic. He answers but in an unconvincing manor.
Jason Kash: Yes...Yes I am a champion!!
As I continue to drive I hold my right arm to the back seat where Sabur hands me a pipe. I place it in my lap then reach for the tin foil wad the big man hands over.
Lively: A true champion, a real champion has to have Gold running in his blood. Even when we are without championships the Gold, it must flow in our blood stream!!!
With that I fumble with the tin foil opening it up. I smirk toward Kash as I drive and try to dump what seems like Golden dust into the pipe, I hold the pipe up sniffing it with a sick smile.
Jason Kash: What is that?
Lively: Gold Dust!!
Jason Kash: What...what are you going to do, smoke that?
Lively: NOPE, YOU ARE!!!
I hand the pipe toward Jason Kash. The toothless master of violence kind of chuckles as he looks out the window.
Jason Kash: The Hell I am!
Lively: You're not? Why...you a Mormon or something? A JESUS freak?
Kash whips his head toward me as I almost don't even realize the pun I just presented. My eyes just glare toward him with a stern focus.
Jason Kash: I can't do that...it's fucking Gold Dust.
Lively: Smoke it!!!
Kash again just shakes his head no and I lock up the brakes in an intersection. Sabur lunges forward placing his massive bicep around Jason's neck squeezing tight. I turn sideways in the seat looking at the man whose face begins to turn bright red and confusion fills his eyes.
Lively: You know what...I don't want you to be in this group, I don't want any part of anything to do with some candy ass wash up. You know I just recently fired Jerry O'Harrow because I thought we were doing something special, I thought I was associating with champions?? Get the fuck out of the car!!!
Sabur releases his choke on Jason Kash who coughs for air while grabbing his throat. Shocked the man reaches for the door handle then stops looking back at me.
Jason Kash: Fuck it...give it to me!!
Lively: What?
Jason Kash: Fuck it I said, I will smoke it!!!
I hand the pipe over to Jason Kash who at this point is confused, slightly upset, and ready to succumb to peer pressure. He places the pipe in his mouth as I hand him a lighter. The guy sparks the thing to life and brings it close to the pipe. I quickly swat the fucking thing from his mouth knocking it to the floor mats as Gold Dust flutters through the air. Even more baffled the former Grand Slam champion looks at me even more puzzled.
Lively: You were really going to smoke that? Holy shit you are dedicated!!!
Kash kind of looks at me for an explanation.
Lively: Bro...you never seen Training Day? Denzel? Ethan Hawk? I guess I just wanted to bust your balls and see how far you are willing to go.
Sabur: Well I would say this mother fucker is dedicated to the cause.
Lively: Bro you were going to smoke real Gold Dust, do you even know what that would do to you?
Kash flashes a toothless grin my direction as I hit the gas and move the car out of the intersection.
Jason Kash: You are an asshole and I think I owe you one!!
Lively chuckles as his stable mate threatens a returning prank as payback for the little dose of home made Punk'd he just offered up.
-The Time Has Come-
I'd say MY time has come but I have been living in it, Hell you all have been living in MY time. I am a generous human being so to speak, because in MY time others have opportunities to shine. Many men and women have been granted the chances to stand in the shimmering light of glory and taste the sweetness of success as twelve pounds of gold adorned their waists all while living in MY time. You see just because I was sidelined with injury, it didn't mean we closed the book, and started on a new series. No sir this was but a plot twist, in a story that lives, breathes and functions with me as the main character. You are all but supporting staff, and with the turning of the page that brought me to Asylum we begin yet another adventure. You see my plans are rather simple, bring about the destructive, and violent nature in those who have their named inked to contracts on this brand. Violence lives here and all who take a residence in the presence of violence had better embrace her in all her glory. I will tell you this she is a bitch scorned by the abusive powers of those who wish to keep her locked up at home. Like all women she is ready to hit the town, and leave a wake of broken hearts in her path. Violence is tired of doing dishes, sick of folding laundry, no she is ready to rip her clothes off and jump on stage. I may be a woman hater, but I can honestly tell you I am an opportunist. I will feed this fancy ladies hunger for attention, I will build up her need to shine, and be the driving force that puts the bitch known as Violence back on the map.
With that agenda sitting in front of me guiding me like a light I will being to do what only I can do. Meltdown was looked upon as nothing more then a developmental slash wash up show. It was a flat out joke, and something the company just kind of treated like a red headed step child. That was until I descended upon those rankings. Now look at the beauty of a beast I helped mold. That same game changing power is what I bring to Asylum. A show that quite frankly holds some what of the same negative views around the globe. That my friends changes NOW! With in ring debut scheduled this Sunday I have picked a spot in this Infected Vagina of a city to film my promotional piece for this weeks show. Rather then have the entire crew standing beside me, I figured I would let them marinate at the hotel. I plan to cut a little bit of Michael Lively Magic for the Masses with the Harbor of Asuncion as a back drop. As a camera flickers to life to record my words I look toward it with a dastardly smile, almost welcoming everyone surely to watch this footage to show with nothing more then a look. No worries though I have plenty to say...
Lively: Asylum welcomes the the JESUS...how fitting indeed for a Carpenter to be welcomed to a place in dire need of repair. Don't you fret little ones because I am here. Funny though how I look upon myself as the JESUS when my mother looks at me as the Devil she raised. What ever side of the coin you wish to flip it toward makes not a bit of difference to me, because now that I am home, there is truly no place like it. I could bore you with the specifics of my history with this brand and it's birth rite, but most people listening to this will surely not pay attention, and only twist anything said for their own benefit. Instead of dwelling in the past I will break down the future. A future where I see complete anarchy among the Asylum roster, where every match embraces some form of violence, and the show that once electrified masses toward the popularity that gave birth to this somewhat distorted version of something so lovely. Along this journey to the right the wrong,I also fulfill my destiny to hold every title this company has to offer. Just a few belts away from that historic goal, but first we introduce the Dying Breed to Foul Play. The Dying Breed, if I have anything to say about it The Extinct Breed will no longer be clouding this place with their fancy suits, and stale good hearted bullshit.
I take a deep breath as I turn toward the water to continue my rant.
Lively: Let me see what we are dealing with, a group that once had a member by the name Krunk, and somehow he didn't survive. Maybe you are right about a Dying Breed. Needless to say we have the soon to be former tag team champions, and a guy named Billy D. Williams Jr. Well Junior let me say what an honor it is to meet you. Wait a second have we met before? Sorry you must be the type to NOT leave a lasting impression. I guess like your father people would rather forget your body of work. Speaking of that let me address it, you were on Meltdown and you walked out from that show as a former champion??...no just a former guy who fell to Michael Lively in a six man tag match. Funny how things can repeat themselves huh. I hope you remember how that felt and embrace it because deja vu will strike you Sunday. You have tasted no success other then aligning yourself with the tag team champions and spit shinning the belts for them in preparations for hand delivery to Reaver and Kash in the coming months. You are a fucking joke, a technical wrestler on a show based primarily as an extreme environment. It's time to adapt or DIE, and from the sounds of your Breeds Endangerment I'd say I can help you with the latter. I have won a championship in every place I walked into, and Asylum will be no different. Since that's my goal it seems this will be our only interaction with one another and unlike you I will make it one something you can remember. I mean you come at people with cheese dick lines like Getting Chocolate Wasted?? What the fuck?? Are you some perverted Willy Wonka trying to make a stag film. I'm not Veruca Salt, but if you are coming at me frisky like it seems I will surely offer you up the dick for that hungry mouth of yours, because honestly it's fuck what you have to say.
I turn back toward the camera with an evil grin on my face.
Lively: Billy Wonka isn't the only one with the death sentence of extinction, it seems Jair Hopkins is too marked for termination as they say. Hopkins, one half of the tag team champions. I know the responsibilities and struggles of being a title holder. Everyone chomping at the bit, people trying to constantly take what you believe is yours. This life we live is tough enough, and being a tag team champion as of late adds a bit of double duty for what is a strenuous schedule already. Tired, worn down, and not rested. A rotten bastard like myself with a nose for weakness will thrive in that environment. I have this knack to expose that one fragile portion of a mans game. With that knowledge being bestowed upon you Jair, I'm sure you are sitting there thinking to yourself what is that weakness. How can I mask it from a masterful tactician of human chess like Michael Lively. You see you fancy yourself a young talent much like a sponge, trying to soak up all you can. While you are concerned with progression, I am concerned with aggression. I have been up and down the ladder, been damn near everywhere and done everything. A seasoned veteran is what I'm called, yet five years experience is all I have. While you are concerned with your teenage portion of your career I'm concerned with how to carry my massive balls with me toward that ring. You will see like your partners in crime just how heavy of a load I carry, when I empty out the love sack of heaven on the Dying Breed as my christening moment on the Asylum brand. That's right Foul Plays in ring assault on you folks with be something symbolic of the perverted nature of your boy Billy Wonka...the Dying Breed on their knees, mouths opened wide like starving baby birds waiting for the worm. You bitches will get the worm alright!!!
I can't help but laugh in a twisted fashion as I lean against the railing along the viewing perch I am posted on. I fold my arms as if things have just gotten serious.
Lively: Now if there was someone to respect as an opponent in this match...Anthony Bailey...wouldn't be him!!! I mean and I supposed to respect your world title reign? Better yet should I respect your tag title wins? I mean you are the one member of your group to find success in singles competition, so that should garner you something, right? Ehhh...I think not!! I'm the woman hater and from the smell of things we are dealing with a world class Vagina in Anthony Bailey. So I will simply be in my element, disposing of another tampon bloated bitch!!! No matter your past accolades, no matter what ever form of success you have tasted....it doesn't measure up to me. Your so called drive is simply elementary when matched with my Masters Degree in personal dedication toward cementing my name in history as THEE best APW has ever seen. ME in conjunction with Reaver and Kash will add up to be a problem the Dying Breed will not be able to solve. Honestly last week two out of the three couldn't handle our two out of three. Look close at the difference this week will bring. Michael mother fucking Lively and the son Lando Calrissian. The offspring of of a guy whose most notable role in modern film is Undercover Brother? Just like his father Junior isn't a leading man, he's nothing more then a supporting role, riding on the tag team champions coat tails. Like his father he has trouble picking the right role.
I stand up from the guard rail looking right into the camera.
Lively: While you gentlemen claim to be a dying breed, I tell you that I am a thriving breed, a championship pedigree with a violent streak with intentions that can be described as nothing more then FOUL. Sunday night along side with two men with similar beliefs as my own, the game is set and we will PLAY!! People can sum it up as good versus evil, but that statement is nothing more the relative toward the eyes you view it through. Where me and Foul Play stand the Dying Breed are bad guys trying to ruin the Asylum. So you flashy bastards that pander toward the fans will soon be face to face with vigilante superheros who have one goal in mind, and that's spill blood with violent intentions...and from the lessons of history, when a Breed is in danger of Dying the last thing needed is blood to be spilled. None the less the world has thrived quite well without Dinosaurs, Mammoths, Saber-tooth Tigers and I'm sure mother earth won't miss the three of you either!!! THIS IS THE HOME OF FOUL PLAY...THIS IS ASYLUM!!!!!
