Mr. Blood: An ass wiping? Damn you fruits are fucking kinky aren't you?
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Brock: Less talking. More ass kicking in here.
Mr. Blood: Alright then, Boys, try to leave something for his husband to come home to.
*The Gears start forward, at first Brock seems to be holding his own, as he is able to knock one of them into two others, however all too soon the numbers game catches up with him and he finds himself laying on the floor in the fetal position, black leather boots stomping into his body, searching for any weak areas to hit.*
*Just then Matt Ryder jumps on one of the man*
*Brock spits ourt some blood and decides to stay.*
Brock: Was tha the best you had?
Great ICing guys :D Well of to work...be on sporadically!
Damian: Haaay, it's so quiet today...
Whiz: Let's throw a party, bruh!
Iceman: Yeah, nigga!
Bushido: I think I should leave...
So who here has a ps3?