They had fear in their eyes, he had arrived, the dreaded rave destroyer, they called him Crusher. A huge bald beast, he would show up to raves alone and cause pain and terror on the dancefloor. He would dance in an extremely bold style, one part rave, another part mosh. In thin speed dealer sunglasses he would tear apart the dancefloor and rip to shreds any weaklings in his way. The effeminate rave-goers and promoters didn`t know what to make of him, was he even human? one thing was clear, he didn`t do any drugs or drink alcohol, he would dance all night and slam down cans of IRN-BRU, a scottish soda pop he would steal in dozens at the local import grocery stores, they had seen him in there, he would just walk right in, fill up his bag, look the employees straight in the eyes and walk out again. No one dared to stop him or say a word, they described him as a “untamed animal it was better to let roam free". This night at the rave something was different, Crusher seemed dissapointed with the DJ`s (who could blame him?) and walked up to the booth, shoved away the poor disc jockeys and went to pull out something from his pocket. What on earth could it be? The entire rave went silent in anticipation, all eyes peeled as Crusher pulled out a CD from his tribal ornamented track pants. It was a red CD with a velvet cover with an image of a mouth with gold bottom fang grills and adorned on the sides where two gold spiders. There was also gold lettering on the mysterious CD, but hard to read, what did it say? as a menacing sample of a man saying “they`re not human, they`re brutal!” started playing the rave-goers where able to decipher the warped golden text. Oh no, it was worse than they expected, so much worse than the most hellish nightmare they could ever imagine. As a nasty bass-ridden rave lead started thumping out of the speakers, the pale crowd looked at eachother in utmost terror and said in unison, “God have mercy on our rave, It`s SKINTONE - CRUSHER”
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