Appearing In: Soul Calibur III (upcoming)
Dr. Thorpe:I don't care if you're a martial arts expert, that sword is an accident waiting to happen. She already ripped her costume all to pieces when she got drunk and tried to hula hoop with it.
Zack:Maybe she's changing a tire on the world's deadliest monster truck.
Dr. Thorpe:I think she's dressed a little too classy to be anywhere near a monster truck rally.
Zack:It's hard to focus with that much décolletage but I'm sort of curious what animal that green fur came from.
Dr. Thorpe:I think that's the opposite of décolletage, because that's like a low neckline. But this is a high waistline, I think.
Dr. Thorpe:I think the opposite is just "colletage." Like how "fenestrate" means "to throw into a window." Ex.: Batman fenestrated Robin into the fifth-floor window of Harvey Dent's manor. But anyway, the point is that we can see the bottom of her bosoms, and we're not going to pussyfoot around it and pretend we didn't notice because Namco can't embarrass us because we're not fourteen year old boys.
Zack:Hehehe, i think you can sort of see her pussy through her pants.
Dr. Thorpe:Uh oh, Zack's little brother Llewellyn Parsons has once again taken control of the keyboard. Did you leave a Gamefaqs window open again? You know that attracts him like a moth to a candle.
Llewellyn:i think hes rubbing his dong hehehe i can do the next one though. BTW, Tira is hot but I still like to play Taki. If this chick has the bounce FX of Taki though it will be hard contest, and Ivy is hot 2
Dylan Thorpe:soul calibur is for fags dude, way better bounce in DOA u kno
Llewellyn:no faggot, that game has 0 depth soul caliber is a real game Fag-o-a is just 4 button mashing homos the legend will never die
Dylan Thorpe:maybe u don't know how to play n00b
Llewellyn:maybe u don't kno how to stfu LOL
Dylan Thorpe:maybe UR MOM n**ger
Llewellyn:more like ur mom is the faggot
Zack:Alright, I'm back. Let's move on.
Dr. Thorpe:Oh tits, what hath thou wrought?
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.