You regain consciousness. The world seems smeared and blurry, and your head is throbbing. You lie on the ground, every inch of your skin still stinking of Nick Lachey's nasty feet. Suddenly, there is a series of thunderous thuds coming from the sky-scraping door across the room. From the side of your vision, Nick appears, and walks towards the door, the giant's bare feet making causing the ground beneath you to quake with every step.
Nick swings the door open and on the other side, you see the monolithic figure of singer Ricky Martin. The huge Latino star is staggeringly tall and is wearing a denim shirt with cut off sleeves to show off his red hot, tanned, bulging muscles. He also wears loose jeans and comfortable-looking flip-flops on his big, paw-like feet.
Ricky wanders inside, smiling that winning smile at his buddy Nick and running a hand through that golden brown, sleek hair. The giant continues to walk into the room as Nick shuts the door, further and further, until his mammoth feet are inches away from you. You tense up, afraid that the massive man means to stomp you under those great big beasts. But he stops where he is, smiling down at you; smiling that wide, gleaming smile, looking like a cat eyeing a cornered mouse.
The man's feet are emitting a hot, foul odour. You stare up with baited breath, waiting for the new giant to make a move; have his fun. Nick walks up behind Ricky and slaps a hand onto his pal's shoulder jovially.
With a friendly grin, Nick says: "Happy birthday, buddy. You can do whatever you like with him.."
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