𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘵.

𝙍𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚. 𝘚𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘴, 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝙧𝙖𝙬, 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘯.

I see you picking up on the double entendre, clever boy.

Don’t be so surprised. There’s a decent measure of wit stored away up here, buddy.

I suppose that would explain the rope malfunction, wouldn’t it?

If I were you, I’d steer clear. It’s already embarrassed you once— don’t be going back for seconds, now.

While I don’t agree that a girl like me can be narrowed down to two simple adjectives, I can’t argue that ‘hot’ and ‘funny’ are inaccurate at all.

If your hand is on my butt and I’m still able to utter a coherent sentence, let alone a joke, then you’re doing something wrong, ‘babeski’.

𝙁𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙞𝙥, 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙?

Seth Rollins’ ass. That’s the tweet.

𝘔𝘢𝘯, 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘷𝘢𝘫𝘢𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘤’𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘵-𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯. 𝘈 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳-𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬, 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘺-𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵— 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙈𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝘽𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠.