Fish oil, the scent of thats in your nostirls as she walks out the the arena ahead of you, annonced as the champion of cuisne. You watch her walk out almost missing the type of gimmick this match is "Dinner match" you run it over in your head as you look at the ring, its been made up to look like a kitchen "And the only way this match ends is if one party prepares and eats the other..., of course the meal to be made will be announced mid match after appetities are raised. You squirm in your clothing as you approach the ring, she is smiling all the too much as the bell rings she makes the first move
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.11 seconds at 4:17pm on Jan 21, 2025 via server WEBX1.