A limousine pulls up in front of Coreytopia and out staggers Michael Graves, still in full ring gear, a bewildered and anxious camera crew following him as he walks up the steps to the mansion. Even with his head tilted over into his hand, and his other arm stuck outward for balance, Graves made the walk to the door in a natural type of way. Like he'd done it a million times. The door to the home of a girl he has assaulted and kidnapped on multiple occasions. The home of the girl who subsequently, on multiple occasions, nearly ended his life. The setting was ripe for a dumpster fire.

Graves bumbled his way into the door and through the main corridor of Coreytopia. The commoners around the mansion looked on in a silent shock and horror as this monstrous spectacle made its way inside. He swung about, still wobbly and leaning, a gash on the top of his head where Dolly whacked him with the Golden Potato more visible under the eco-friendly, solar-powered fluorescents. He took a hard, but anticipated turn up the steps and walked directly up to Dolly's room.

"This isn't going to end well..." the promo producer muttered under his breath to his cameraman as they followed him on upstairs.

Graves swung into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, and flopped down face-first onto the perfectly made bed with plain white quilts and pillows. In a room for perfectly put-together room, organized to the nth degree, Michael Graves stuck out like a porno-mag on a library shelf.

Ahhh...

He sighed out in relief,

...wait.

He said pulling his still masked face-up from the pillows,

Why does my bed feel smaller?

"DOLLY!?"

There's a bang at the door,

"I heard you come in just now, can we talk please?"

It's Corey Smith. Dolly Waters' roommate and best friend. Graves stands from the bed, and as he does it finally happens,

OOOOOOOHHHH MY FUCKING GAWWWWWD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He shrieks like a girl as he sees his own reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. He starts tugging and trying to pull the mask off, but Corey Smith kicks the door open.

OH MY GOD COREY! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!

Graves begins to plead,

I thought I was feeling strange. But something is seriously wrong! It's me! It's Dolly!

Corey's face had all along been twisting into an indescribable rage as, without hesitation, Corey superkicks Graves right in the jaw, sending the big man tumbling backward. He smashes through the double French doors that lead to Dolly's balcony and smacks his head on the concrete.

OWWWW GODDAMNIT!

Graves scrambles to get his mask pulled off and holds out a hand towards Corey, begging him to stop.

Look in my eyes Corey! It's me! It's Dolly goddamnit!

But Corey looks on with a heartless march toward Graves,

I don't know why I'm in Graves'-

Before Graves can even finish his sentence, Corey lifts him by the hair and uppercuts him, sending him lifting over the balcony and crashing down seven feet into the rose bushes below.

I've got to deal with my best friend making the WORST decision of her life, joining BOB, and now YOU?! Michael Graves of all people is snooping around her room?! I'll fucking kill you, buddy!

Corey leaps over the balcony,

The flesh from Graves' biceps rip against the rose thorns as he tries gathering himself, but Corey is already on him. Smith is just about to attack again when,

WAIT! YOUR TOES!

Excuse me?

Your toes!

he says again laboring his words,

They're double-jointed. They curled backward when we... you know? We joked about it!

Corey's face turns white as he considers the look in Graves' eyes,

Dolly?

You HAVE to help me!