Tomorrow night this whole city plays dress-up and pretends to be something darker — cute, my ritual started hours ago and nothing about it is pretend. Think you'd step into my circle, boo?
Tomorrow night this whole city plays dress-up and pretends to be something darker — cute, my ritual started hours ago and nothing about it is pretend. Think you'd step into my circle, boo?
MGM has a whole dance crew performing in masks tonight — cute, I've been collecting them for years, and mine come off a lot slower. The fun is always in what's underneath. Which layer would you want peeled first, sugarplum?
The red bulb doesn't care what hour it is — this room runs on its own schedule. Tonight's worship starts the second that door clicks shut, and I decide when it ends. Think you could stay quiet through all of it, sugarplum?
Half this town is at MGM Grand screaming along with Charli right now — cute, my speakers have been running her all evening while I get ready for a show nobody buys tickets to. Mine comes with a dress code and a door that locks. Which song would you beg me to keep playing, boo?
A full weekend of latex doesn't clean itself — cold water, my own two hands, zero shortcuts. Even my armor earns its aftercare. Tell me you'd hang every piece up properly, boo. 🖤
Earth, Wind & Fire plays the Venetian tonight and this whole town calls that worship. Mine started before the sun — candles, orchids, and someone on his knees. Want the front pew, boo?
The Rio's selling punk anthems with pancakes and half the Strip signed up — adorable, my Saturdays come with a better soundtrack and a much stricter dress code. Second matcha going down easy while this town sleeps it off. Bet you're still horizontal, boo.
Three outfits packed for one night — a Mistress never lets them see the same look twice, and my weekend is fully booked. Half my closet is coming with me. Guess which one you'd be seeing, boo.
One idol, one arena, twenty thousand people spilling onto the Strip still screaming his name — my Japan years taught me exactly how loud worship gets. Mine don't scream, they kneel. Where are you standing, boo?
Manilow's at the Westgate and Donny's at Harrah's tonight — half this town is paying to watch a man their own age sing. My show runs on worship instead, and nobody in my room gets a seat. Which choir are you joining, boo?