Huracán Más Sexy: The House That Sexy Built
Jul 2, 2020 16:24:54 GMT -5
BonnieBlue and ned like this
Post by Breezy on Jul 2, 2020 16:24:54 GMT -5
Promo Title: The House that Sexy Built
¡Green! Red! Blue! Gray! Purple! Pink!
No!
¡White! Black! Orange! Yellow! Silver!
No!
Puedes tocar el Oro?
Who will get the gold?
¡Hurácan!
Who will top them all?
¡Hurácan!
Lift the felt blue and white curtain. There stands a man on the pedestal. His white and blue suit spins like a Porsche coupe on display. Merengue dancer enter from all sides. They dance to the beat a Latin beat until the sun goes down. Hurácan más Sexy spins around with crossed arms. His chin soaks up their energy from under his blue and white mask.
Can he be defeated?
¡Nunca jamas!
Will he get the gold?
!Si, Papí!
Hurácan steps off the platform and takes the closer dancer with the next song. His hips swagger like Jagger. Everyone gathers around his aura. They demand a solo dance while clearing the floor for them. Hurácan brings out all the stops with his merengue. He also picked the most fluid partner as they cha-cha real smooth. His hips bump hers when they bop to the electro piano.
¡Hurácan más Sexy!
He switches from one dancer to the next until he has danced with the all. Suddenly, the song changes, and Hurácan rips off what as a tear away suit the entire time. His wrestling gear shows the sunbaked flesh underneath. Everyone does a rhythmic clap to the rapid beat.
Who am I? I am the voice in your head wishing to be better. Your midnight dreams of six-pack abs. Your sad, longing for ice cream and sadness during morning ads for exercise equipment. Treadmills will not save you from yourself. They cannot save you from the sins of the gut!
¡Dinos, Papí!
Three continents! Fourteen countries! All of them in the path of a powerful hurricane!
¡Consiguete, Papí!
Ten belts! Dominance of wrestling rings and the bedroom! In the path of a hurricane!
The music slows and lights lower. A power ballad ensues that brings everyone back onto the dance floor. Everyone grinds on everyone. Hurácan más Sexy clears a path again covered in sweat.
We love hard. And we play harder!
His flock returns for another round of love smashing. Men and women dance around Hurácan as if in the presence of a god. He allows this while getting his own pound of flesh in return.
I suspect you are unsure what to think of all this. Chalupa de Guerra hits the American belly like a torpedo. But we know you are the warship to challenge the winds of the Hurricane! How dare you think this will be an easy feat? No one has ever looked on me as you do now.
For now, sit in the eye of my storm. Rest your heart on that. I will smash your sail. Ruin your cannons. And then, leave you to die at sea. For the Hurricane takes no prisoners!
New dancers in long black dresses form rings around him.
The Hurricane will find whoever thinks they can escape his dominance. No ring is safe. No locker room is safe. You cannot hide. Only pray that he never wants to take you down.
Myths of a great ship tell us that you are something on warpath. That an unblemished champion across the world. Holder and conqueror of ten companies can stand to get another. Of course he can! No one stops a hurricane. You can only watch as it blows everything out of its way.
This tournament will not bring prestige to the Hurricane’s years in the ring. His invitation comes from the heavens of wrestling. Only he can be the one to show everyone the true love of wrestling. And bring sexy back to the game! ¡Olé!
¡Enséñanos!
No one invites someone of my power or prestige to just dance the night away. That’s not sexy. Not at all! You stare, feeling jealous because you will never have my influence on the sport.
Wait. You think expertise means slowing down? Never!
Just for that you shall face my newest creation yet! Someone. Anyone! Let us demonstrate!
¡Papí! ¡Elígeme!
My angel, Abilene. You are too kind. Everyone, give this beautiful creature some space!
He draws her in with a call to dance. Abilene takes his hand. That cues a tango of two eagles spiraling from the sky. They are perfect in the moment. No one misses the beat. Not a step off line to that swelling sound of sexes between the ancient barrier of dance. Tango has a heartbeat proving that God loves us. Why else would the perfect song being two souls together as it has today. Everyone else reserves reactions for the end. They know that the true sound of love patters with the night on a lovely starlight. Some might see movies. Others might see True Lies for worse reasons. Only those of a pure, fiery heart know the pounding of love against chests.
Mi amor. Are you ready to shock the world?
¡Papí, muéstrales a todos!
Of he will, mi amor! Soy al huricán!
He swings her violently to the final beats. Abilene does a full counter clockwork spin as they rotate all the way around. Hurácan más Sexy ends the music with a tilt-a-whirl piledriver. He stands and does the sign of the cross in respect to the fallen. Silence greets him as he stands tall over Abilene.
Sexy can giveth. Sexy can also take away. These are the rules at stake. Are you sure you still want to face me?
I am not going to play nicely, Chalupa de Guerra. You have entered the eye wall for now. Yet as my power swells, you will soon learn what makes me the most dangerous force of all.
Sexy is a birthright. And I do not take that privilege lightly. Every step must be like the music of its soul. If not, then why even perform? There has to be a greater soul to what we do in the ring. And from what I hear of you, Chalupita, you think this ring owes you something.
Let me be the voice of reason you don’t have. You might value yourself a destroyer. But I am a creator. Even when it hurts others. Forest fires must burn away the old trees and logs. My love for the ring demands that I make it a better place. Somewhere a cretin like you has no bounds!
If you’re not listening now. Then please, enjoy the sunset inside my peaceful eye wall. It will collapse just as you think to sip on wine or adjust an Instagram filter. When all hell will break loose!
Dancers raise Abilene over their heads and present her before Hurácan más Sexy. His indifference swallows the sight of her motionless body. He then blows a kiss. Her eyes open with an ephemeral gasp. His longing touch reels her off their supporting arms and back into his embrace. When the tango returns with a new, mightier downbeat.
¿O Hurácan, me amas?
Mi amor, have I not been sincere? I told you before that no one can stop the Hurricane. His gestures are his own to bear. His love is yours to worship and adore. Be blessed in his beautiful form!
Hurácan más Sexy pulls his arms back so that everyone bows before him. He then takes Abilene for the final notes of that sensual dance. They steal the world for those few moments. It suspends all time. At last, tired and heavy breathing, she walks him back to a throne draped in red cloth. He sits regally.
Chalupa wishes to wage war upon us. The free. Those filled with love. How can we stand back and let someone like that ruin the paradise we forged in that ring across the globe? Never I say!
Let me introduce more of my power. You see, my new friend, we were born to be enemies. No one that resists the might of the Hurricane has ever survived to tell that tale. His greatness has brought self-proclaimed kings to their knees. Vanquished everyone and everything against loving hearts. There is no beauty to destroying anything created by God. Although we can cleanse their curse on this world.
We dance to show our respect or the lives granted to us. To be sexy is not just good looks. Oh no. It means devoting your life to being sexy too! And the Hurricane has reached his place of peace.
¿O Hurácan, dinos que hacer?
What can you do? You must be faithful to the our place in the universe. That is sexy.
!O Hurácan, nosotros seguiremos tus instrucciones!
My instructions? My instructions are to keep living like there is no tomorrow. Carpe diem, mi amor! Be forever in what makes us the champions of the soul. Follow those to the word and all will be well.
Dancers twirl and prance off screen. Then comes the flamenco dancers with title belts from different companies. Each one bows and sets one of the heavy titles at his feet. Hurácan smiles.
You will not extend someone of my prestige the same kindness. You won’t touch gloves with me. I know your type, Chalupa, and you must be looking towards the finish line before our match. Everyone does before they meet me on the mat.
I am a world traveler. My storms know no boundaries. I am not just hurricane in my name. Not even close. My time in this business has seen only sunrise. Where have you been? I am only now learning what it means to face you by the words in an email. How befitting of the most underestimated talent in all of wrestling. Golden from head to toe. Why even try to know you? I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?
His dancers circle him to make a flower shape.
It becomes clearer the more I plan for this assault. One chance is a giant man. Maybe he will not feel the wrath of my newest move. Unless the warship is actually a small woman. I have no pictures or reference! Nor do these people until now. How could I, a ten time champ do that?
It begins on the TV. No one shows the submission specialty of the Hurricane. Never in this decade.
Look back to 2003. I’ll wait. Find my greatest company title. Oh wait, you did not find it, did you?
This is what I’m talking about mi amor. No chances in hell! This audacity of these so called fans of wrestling. Yet nobody thought to pirate my match! How disgraceful, mi amor. So one fan me. I can feel that human sweat on my perfect brow.
She fans him with a palm leaf.
No one knows when I made the jump from man to god. Love is mysterious that way. When I sit here in the audience of sexy. When breathe in that metal taste of real gold and silver. Or bite into the wrinkled leather of my championships. Even then I feel human.
But under this mask. There I transform into the most powerful lover in the world. No one can match this sex appeal. My body by Adonis sings like the bronze of ancient Greece. A classic through and through.
But how does love equal wins? I cannot explain the appeal of my sexy power. It goes without saying because what is sexy was chosen to be so at birth. We can cultivate our peak potential. Although no one gets sexier by wanting to be that way. We are or are not.
Those one highest peak of sexy have the genes of winners. See, it wasn’t so hard to understand. And I bet many of you doubters thought there would be a flow chart.
¿O Hurácan, por qué quieres el cinturón?
I made that clear before. Now that everyone has passed Hurricane 101. Let us go on to the next chapter. 102 begins with a plain rule. Sexy determines pecking orders. It also determines the outcome in all matters of life.
Sexy gets the girl. Sexy gets fast cars. Sexy is kin to happiness. Look at me! I am overflowing!
If there is any doubt left in your mind about the scale of sexiness, look at me! Look at my belts! Sexy rules the world whether you like it or not. And I am at the top of that immaculate totem pole.
I sense you are not yet convinced. Fine. Sexies assemble my suit!
The grab each belt and dress him from neck to waist in over one hundred pounds of title gold. Veins bulge in his neck from under the mask. Hurácan más Sexy strikes his most iconic pose. Ankles cross. Arms pose above his head to form a heart. Hurácan leans forward and flexes.
SEXY!
He sits down on his kingly throne. Abilene claws to his side and rest her head.
Where else can I go in this small planet, mi amor?
I have searched for the one to destroy me. But no one has accepted the challenge. No can meet my expectations. I feel this will be another march to the golden city.
Chalupa del Guerra I am coming for you like a hurricane. Unforgiving. Unstoppable. Forever the mightiest, sexiest force on Earth.
Papí.
What it is, mi amor?
La Chalupa.
What about him?
Es una niña, Hurácan.
Well that changes everything. She will get taste my new move after all.
Also, what did I say about the Spanish? I don’t speak it like you do. You need to speak up.
Well then, Chalupa, it helps to see you for what you really are. A warmonger. How dare you try to take what is mine by the divine right of sexiness? How dare you!
A harness lowers from the ceiling.
Are you ready, mi amor?
¡Bendícenos con tus vientos!
Exactly, I shall bless them. Everyone, feel my sexiness blow down upon you all!
Hurácan más Sexy and Abilene ride into the ceiling. She holds on to him like Roman statue. They climb until they meet an industrial wind turbine.
Blessed are those who see my sexiness! Blessed is the ring! Now we become gold!
The turbine blows them with hurricane force winds. Hurácan más Sexy lets his mask and cap ripple. Abilene holds on for dear life. His sound gets choppy too.
Chalupa, whoever you are, beware the eye of the Hurricane. You may rest now! But I will be there before you know. And all those in between me and my next belt. No one escapes Hurácan más Sexy! Sexy forever! Sexy until we die! My winds will never cease except to amaze! Find shelter before it's too late. For my eye only forgives so long!
El Fin
¡Green! Red! Blue! Gray! Purple! Pink!
No!
¡White! Black! Orange! Yellow! Silver!
No!
Puedes tocar el Oro?
Who will get the gold?
¡Hurácan!
Who will top them all?
¡Hurácan!
Lift the felt blue and white curtain. There stands a man on the pedestal. His white and blue suit spins like a Porsche coupe on display. Merengue dancer enter from all sides. They dance to the beat a Latin beat until the sun goes down. Hurácan más Sexy spins around with crossed arms. His chin soaks up their energy from under his blue and white mask.
Can he be defeated?
¡Nunca jamas!
Will he get the gold?
!Si, Papí!
Hurácan steps off the platform and takes the closer dancer with the next song. His hips swagger like Jagger. Everyone gathers around his aura. They demand a solo dance while clearing the floor for them. Hurácan brings out all the stops with his merengue. He also picked the most fluid partner as they cha-cha real smooth. His hips bump hers when they bop to the electro piano.
¡Hurácan más Sexy!
He switches from one dancer to the next until he has danced with the all. Suddenly, the song changes, and Hurácan rips off what as a tear away suit the entire time. His wrestling gear shows the sunbaked flesh underneath. Everyone does a rhythmic clap to the rapid beat.
Who am I? I am the voice in your head wishing to be better. Your midnight dreams of six-pack abs. Your sad, longing for ice cream and sadness during morning ads for exercise equipment. Treadmills will not save you from yourself. They cannot save you from the sins of the gut!
¡Dinos, Papí!
Three continents! Fourteen countries! All of them in the path of a powerful hurricane!
¡Consiguete, Papí!
Ten belts! Dominance of wrestling rings and the bedroom! In the path of a hurricane!
The music slows and lights lower. A power ballad ensues that brings everyone back onto the dance floor. Everyone grinds on everyone. Hurácan más Sexy clears a path again covered in sweat.
We love hard. And we play harder!
His flock returns for another round of love smashing. Men and women dance around Hurácan as if in the presence of a god. He allows this while getting his own pound of flesh in return.
I suspect you are unsure what to think of all this. Chalupa de Guerra hits the American belly like a torpedo. But we know you are the warship to challenge the winds of the Hurricane! How dare you think this will be an easy feat? No one has ever looked on me as you do now.
For now, sit in the eye of my storm. Rest your heart on that. I will smash your sail. Ruin your cannons. And then, leave you to die at sea. For the Hurricane takes no prisoners!
New dancers in long black dresses form rings around him.
The Hurricane will find whoever thinks they can escape his dominance. No ring is safe. No locker room is safe. You cannot hide. Only pray that he never wants to take you down.
Myths of a great ship tell us that you are something on warpath. That an unblemished champion across the world. Holder and conqueror of ten companies can stand to get another. Of course he can! No one stops a hurricane. You can only watch as it blows everything out of its way.
This tournament will not bring prestige to the Hurricane’s years in the ring. His invitation comes from the heavens of wrestling. Only he can be the one to show everyone the true love of wrestling. And bring sexy back to the game! ¡Olé!
¡Enséñanos!
No one invites someone of my power or prestige to just dance the night away. That’s not sexy. Not at all! You stare, feeling jealous because you will never have my influence on the sport.
Wait. You think expertise means slowing down? Never!
Just for that you shall face my newest creation yet! Someone. Anyone! Let us demonstrate!
¡Papí! ¡Elígeme!
My angel, Abilene. You are too kind. Everyone, give this beautiful creature some space!
He draws her in with a call to dance. Abilene takes his hand. That cues a tango of two eagles spiraling from the sky. They are perfect in the moment. No one misses the beat. Not a step off line to that swelling sound of sexes between the ancient barrier of dance. Tango has a heartbeat proving that God loves us. Why else would the perfect song being two souls together as it has today. Everyone else reserves reactions for the end. They know that the true sound of love patters with the night on a lovely starlight. Some might see movies. Others might see True Lies for worse reasons. Only those of a pure, fiery heart know the pounding of love against chests.
Mi amor. Are you ready to shock the world?
¡Papí, muéstrales a todos!
Of he will, mi amor! Soy al huricán!
He swings her violently to the final beats. Abilene does a full counter clockwork spin as they rotate all the way around. Hurácan más Sexy ends the music with a tilt-a-whirl piledriver. He stands and does the sign of the cross in respect to the fallen. Silence greets him as he stands tall over Abilene.
Sexy can giveth. Sexy can also take away. These are the rules at stake. Are you sure you still want to face me?
I am not going to play nicely, Chalupa de Guerra. You have entered the eye wall for now. Yet as my power swells, you will soon learn what makes me the most dangerous force of all.
Sexy is a birthright. And I do not take that privilege lightly. Every step must be like the music of its soul. If not, then why even perform? There has to be a greater soul to what we do in the ring. And from what I hear of you, Chalupita, you think this ring owes you something.
Let me be the voice of reason you don’t have. You might value yourself a destroyer. But I am a creator. Even when it hurts others. Forest fires must burn away the old trees and logs. My love for the ring demands that I make it a better place. Somewhere a cretin like you has no bounds!
If you’re not listening now. Then please, enjoy the sunset inside my peaceful eye wall. It will collapse just as you think to sip on wine or adjust an Instagram filter. When all hell will break loose!
Dancers raise Abilene over their heads and present her before Hurácan más Sexy. His indifference swallows the sight of her motionless body. He then blows a kiss. Her eyes open with an ephemeral gasp. His longing touch reels her off their supporting arms and back into his embrace. When the tango returns with a new, mightier downbeat.
¿O Hurácan, me amas?
Mi amor, have I not been sincere? I told you before that no one can stop the Hurricane. His gestures are his own to bear. His love is yours to worship and adore. Be blessed in his beautiful form!
Hurácan más Sexy pulls his arms back so that everyone bows before him. He then takes Abilene for the final notes of that sensual dance. They steal the world for those few moments. It suspends all time. At last, tired and heavy breathing, she walks him back to a throne draped in red cloth. He sits regally.
Chalupa wishes to wage war upon us. The free. Those filled with love. How can we stand back and let someone like that ruin the paradise we forged in that ring across the globe? Never I say!
Let me introduce more of my power. You see, my new friend, we were born to be enemies. No one that resists the might of the Hurricane has ever survived to tell that tale. His greatness has brought self-proclaimed kings to their knees. Vanquished everyone and everything against loving hearts. There is no beauty to destroying anything created by God. Although we can cleanse their curse on this world.
We dance to show our respect or the lives granted to us. To be sexy is not just good looks. Oh no. It means devoting your life to being sexy too! And the Hurricane has reached his place of peace.
¿O Hurácan, dinos que hacer?
What can you do? You must be faithful to the our place in the universe. That is sexy.
!O Hurácan, nosotros seguiremos tus instrucciones!
My instructions? My instructions are to keep living like there is no tomorrow. Carpe diem, mi amor! Be forever in what makes us the champions of the soul. Follow those to the word and all will be well.
Dancers twirl and prance off screen. Then comes the flamenco dancers with title belts from different companies. Each one bows and sets one of the heavy titles at his feet. Hurácan smiles.
You will not extend someone of my prestige the same kindness. You won’t touch gloves with me. I know your type, Chalupa, and you must be looking towards the finish line before our match. Everyone does before they meet me on the mat.
I am a world traveler. My storms know no boundaries. I am not just hurricane in my name. Not even close. My time in this business has seen only sunrise. Where have you been? I am only now learning what it means to face you by the words in an email. How befitting of the most underestimated talent in all of wrestling. Golden from head to toe. Why even try to know you? I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?
His dancers circle him to make a flower shape.
It becomes clearer the more I plan for this assault. One chance is a giant man. Maybe he will not feel the wrath of my newest move. Unless the warship is actually a small woman. I have no pictures or reference! Nor do these people until now. How could I, a ten time champ do that?
It begins on the TV. No one shows the submission specialty of the Hurricane. Never in this decade.
Look back to 2003. I’ll wait. Find my greatest company title. Oh wait, you did not find it, did you?
This is what I’m talking about mi amor. No chances in hell! This audacity of these so called fans of wrestling. Yet nobody thought to pirate my match! How disgraceful, mi amor. So one fan me. I can feel that human sweat on my perfect brow.
She fans him with a palm leaf.
No one knows when I made the jump from man to god. Love is mysterious that way. When I sit here in the audience of sexy. When breathe in that metal taste of real gold and silver. Or bite into the wrinkled leather of my championships. Even then I feel human.
But under this mask. There I transform into the most powerful lover in the world. No one can match this sex appeal. My body by Adonis sings like the bronze of ancient Greece. A classic through and through.
But how does love equal wins? I cannot explain the appeal of my sexy power. It goes without saying because what is sexy was chosen to be so at birth. We can cultivate our peak potential. Although no one gets sexier by wanting to be that way. We are or are not.
Those one highest peak of sexy have the genes of winners. See, it wasn’t so hard to understand. And I bet many of you doubters thought there would be a flow chart.
¿O Hurácan, por qué quieres el cinturón?
I made that clear before. Now that everyone has passed Hurricane 101. Let us go on to the next chapter. 102 begins with a plain rule. Sexy determines pecking orders. It also determines the outcome in all matters of life.
Sexy gets the girl. Sexy gets fast cars. Sexy is kin to happiness. Look at me! I am overflowing!
If there is any doubt left in your mind about the scale of sexiness, look at me! Look at my belts! Sexy rules the world whether you like it or not. And I am at the top of that immaculate totem pole.
I sense you are not yet convinced. Fine. Sexies assemble my suit!
The grab each belt and dress him from neck to waist in over one hundred pounds of title gold. Veins bulge in his neck from under the mask. Hurácan más Sexy strikes his most iconic pose. Ankles cross. Arms pose above his head to form a heart. Hurácan leans forward and flexes.
SEXY!
He sits down on his kingly throne. Abilene claws to his side and rest her head.
Where else can I go in this small planet, mi amor?
I have searched for the one to destroy me. But no one has accepted the challenge. No can meet my expectations. I feel this will be another march to the golden city.
Chalupa del Guerra I am coming for you like a hurricane. Unforgiving. Unstoppable. Forever the mightiest, sexiest force on Earth.
Papí.
What it is, mi amor?
La Chalupa.
What about him?
Es una niña, Hurácan.
Well that changes everything. She will get taste my new move after all.
Also, what did I say about the Spanish? I don’t speak it like you do. You need to speak up.
Well then, Chalupa, it helps to see you for what you really are. A warmonger. How dare you try to take what is mine by the divine right of sexiness? How dare you!
A harness lowers from the ceiling.
Are you ready, mi amor?
¡Bendícenos con tus vientos!
Exactly, I shall bless them. Everyone, feel my sexiness blow down upon you all!
Hurácan más Sexy and Abilene ride into the ceiling. She holds on to him like Roman statue. They climb until they meet an industrial wind turbine.
Blessed are those who see my sexiness! Blessed is the ring! Now we become gold!
The turbine blows them with hurricane force winds. Hurácan más Sexy lets his mask and cap ripple. Abilene holds on for dear life. His sound gets choppy too.
Chalupa, whoever you are, beware the eye of the Hurricane. You may rest now! But I will be there before you know. And all those in between me and my next belt. No one escapes Hurácan más Sexy! Sexy forever! Sexy until we die! My winds will never cease except to amaze! Find shelter before it's too late. For my eye only forgives so long!
El Fin
