The puff paint on his Christian Audigier hat glistens under the sexy lighting at Red Room, and the crowd is transfixed by his drunken confidence. His boyish grin suggests he might sing a little Enrique, but his spiky hair disagrees and makes the crowd think hell choose N Sync. Yeah, definitely N Sync. He licks his lips, ready to give onlookers the show that his bathroom mirror is sick of watching, and then: All right stop, collaborate, and listen. Ice is back with my brand-new invention. Its karaoke hell for the sober, but if its done right, youll be singing along before Mr. Spikyhair Ice gets to the chorus.
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