“The road is a long and winding one.”
“Everybody has their destination.”
“You’ll find all kinds of modes of transportation on the road. Each one travelling towards that destination as its own speed, in its own style.”
“You’ll find Wiz there as he rides his scooter slowly. He’s getting no-where fast and before long, he’ll need to pull over and recharge. Luckily for him, he’s not alone.”
“Because right there beside him, Tag exhaustedly tries to keep up on his skateboard whilst Ether trundles on her rollerblades.”
“None of them are getting to their destination any time soon.”
“Then you’ve got the variable clown car – a beat up old fuckin’ mini, driven by these colourful little mother fuckers who take turns behind the wheel. Only Starboy, Vigour and TGK are too busy singing along to Taylor Swift to keep their eyes on the road.”
“They don’t give a fuck about the destination; it’s the journey that matters to them.”
“SeeSaw is insanely sat on a carpet, waiting for the thing to take flight.”
“Viper Roberts is being carried on a throne by his snakes, but he doesn’t realize that everyone is passing him by.”
“And Luke Storm’s in a fuckin’ Ferrari, but you know that’ll break down before he ever reaches his destination – Simon will make sure of that, because he’s been under the hood, snipping wires.”
“All these people are on the same road, trying to get to their destination. But the Lambs to the Slaughter highway is a long and winding road that goes through nineteen miles of pain and punishment before ever making it close to the end of the journey.”
“These mother fuckers won’t make it.”
“Some of ‘em don’t have the power.”
“Some of ‘em don’t care about how they get there.”
“Others are so fuckin’ insane that they’re pulling over at every mile marker they see to tell them about their Lord and Savior, the Almighty Jesus Christ.”
“But not me.”
“See, I’m on a Triumph Rocket motorcycle. It’s 2,458cc of pure fuckin’ power. It’s a six speed Goddess that goes 120 miles per hour.”
“These mother fuckers can’t even see me. I’m like lightning, roaring through every fucking mile marker I see, obliterating it in my wake. I’d say they’d eat my dust, but it’ll have settled before they ever get close.”
“On the road that is Lambs to the Slaughter, every person is a mile marker that I’ll roar past. There’s only one vehicle on this highway capable of making it to their destination and that’s mine.”
“Whilst everyone else is broken down, slowly meandering their way down the highway or trying to race a 120 miles per hour motorcycle on their fuckin’ skateboard, I’ll already have gone through Lambs to the Slaughter and be down the road a piece.”
“Because this road?”
“It leads to Ring of Dreams.”
“And that’s where I’ll Triumph.”