so, well then, indeed, well now....
Mr. Blood: Waitin for someone else to finish the job? It's plain and simple. We may let our boys run roughshod over you a few times, but in the end, when you lie broken and bleeding, It's always our faces you're gonna see. The pack leaders always finish the hunt.
Mr. Black: And the kill.
Mr. Blood: As for those whining, cringing fucking keyboard warriors? I wouldn't be surprised if they got lost on their way to Revolution. As for the Dominant Predators Black Blooded?
Mr. Black: We got ourselves a new show to claim.
Mr. Blood: Ryan, I hope you're damn ready boy, because you are about to have the honor of booking the match every single one of these fucking rednecks really felt cheated out of, and the real reason behind all the shit y'all been receiving. See, they knew just as well as we did that those tards were out of their fucking depth, and Doc Creepy just ain't what he used to be. It should have been Black Blooded cutting off the Infection and leaving them to wither, but instead we had to contend with a bunch of fucking nerdy nobodies.
Mr. Black: No more.
Mr. Blood: New show. New Game. Give us the match now, and we won't have to make sure that we are the only option left.