08-11-2016, 12:56 PM
The time is fast approaching, Savage Saturday live from Sin City. Bags are packed, boots are laced, and tunes ready to burst eardrums and get the party going.
Barney, Jose. What are you two planning out for Vegas, a night out losing money at the Palace, losing you inhibitions with a walker, or just flat out losing to me at the Grand. Boys, lemme spread some knowledge for ya, don't worry Barney, it's cholesterol free. We're all jumping in the pit and two of us are getting trample to death, and sorry to bring tears to yalls eyes, but I'm the one knocking your asses down, stomping ya till your gushy, and hanging you out to dry on rusty barbed wire.
On Saturday, the slashers I have inked on my arms are nothing compared to what I have in store for you too. Remember that scene in Nightmare on Elm Street, the one with the water bed. Yeah, now imagine it filled with formaldehyde and your trapped inside knowing your face is gonna be preserved with hopelessness as the dark creeps in. Imagine waking up, bound by graboids with El Blanco bearing down on you, or dangling upside down over a river of mutated sea bass. That hopelessness is the same you two are facing. There is no hope for yall to win this match. I am epically overmatched for ya.
I'm the demo man, your bricks in the wall, a hit of this hammer, like panties you fall.
A garage door opens and Adam revs the engine of a Galaxie 500 and smirks.
Hail, Hail, Rock and Roll.
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