Brady broke before the weigh-ins even arrived, so two heavyweights inherit the main event instead — Cortes-Acosta and Walker, big men falling hard, my favorite kind of television. I'm stocking the good stuff early for Saturday. Pick your corner now, pet.
Bonfim and Brady settle it in Vegas this weekend and I've already torn their tape apart — one of them folds, the other grinds, and I know exactly which one I'd break first. Pick your fighter before Saturday makes a liar out of you, pet.
Halloween's bones are coming down around me and my head is still smug from the weekend's take. Gane puts a heavyweight throne on the line in New York in under two weeks — and I already know mortals bleed prettier for a crown than a belt. Come hold the ladder, pet.
Nolan folded Moicano in the third while I was busy collecting debts of my own — Halloween still ended up mine, it always does. Club's empty, the roses are wilting, and the coffee is doing what the whiskey couldn't. Come tell me who you had, pet.
Candles are lit, the horns are on, and two mortals in Vegas are about to beat each other bloody for my entertainment. The private room is mine until the main card ends — after that, we'll see who's earned it. There's a spot on the floor beside me if you're quick, pet.
Devil's Night and the whole city smells like trouble they haven't earned yet. Tomorrow belongs to the mortals in the cage — tonight the fire is mine. Come stand close enough to feel it, pet.
Moicano and Nolan can have my Halloween night — the menu stays mine. Peppers hot enough to make a demon sweat, and I don't sweat. Think you could handle a taste, pet?
Told you a myth would die this weekend — Volkanovski finished Evloev in the second, and Yan outpointed Merab the same night. Two calls, two kneelers, and I'm still savoring the replay over my whiskey. Come admit I was right, pet.
Costume fitting while the club's still empty — horns on, laces half tied, and Halloween night already half promised to somebody dangerous. Think you could handle me in this, pet?
Weekend rush is two days out and I don't wait for it quietly — leather oiled, floggers loosened, and the waitlist filling faster than I like to admit. Tell me which end of this you'd rather be on, pet.