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Chris McLean:
Today on Total Drama Island-Action-Musical-Whatever,
Watch me make McMahon mincemeat, then off some interns for good measure.
Do what shouldn't be tried at home? You'd best believe that I'm prepared to;
Think you're boss enough to cross me? Well, I triple-dog dare you!
I'm the hottest host this mad, mad, mad, mad world has ever seen;
As tough as Nailz, with words as fiery as your faulty limousine!
I've got full-time invincibility; there's no way I'll be toppled.
How can you expect to Trump McLean when you got beat by Donald?
You'll come in dead-last when you race me, and end up like Team Victory:
A bigger fail than your foray into the football industry!
No chainsaw's in my grasp, and there's no hook strapped to my arm,
But I'm as fierce as any psycho killer; always causing harm!
The Alejandro to your Justin, obsoleting you with tricks galore;
Shake up World Wrestling something worse than when your Owen hit the floor!
You're losing it, old man, and I'll retire you for good:
Entomb you here, achieving what the Undertaker never could.

Vince McMahon:
I'm stepping back into the ring to lay some Raw Smackdown on this crude snob,
And end this match so fast, call it the Wawanakwa Screwjob!
The promotion's patriarch; Authority runs in my family.
Like pineapples in lava, my mere entrance brings calamity!
This boasting host who thinks he's got the most's in for a roast,
'Cause I'm a Federation's father; you're a wannabe Jeff Probst!
I represent a higher power than your whole cast of Canadian idiots;
You've no chance in Hell once Mr. Vince McMahon starts spitting it!
Dropping bigger trauma-bombs than any goth-and-punk relations;
When my superstars show up, it's every teen's elimination!
Haul it down the Dock of Shame, or better yet, straight off a cliff;
I walk the walk with attitude: a god is what you're messing with!
Your lips against my ass is how we'll end it; this I say with confidence:
The thought of this dirtbag defeating me is plain Ridonculous!
I'll skewer you for real, and put you down like Hollis Mason,
When I use your gilded likeness as a weapon; bash your face in!

Chris McLean:
Dock of Shame? Come on; I'll make your ass a human cannonball!
Flush you right down the drain, then take a dump in the confessional!
I'll Hatchet off your balls, then feed 'em to the boys and girls for brunch!
Man, I can even make marshmallows pack a truly toxic punch.
My island makes jackasses out of everybody like Pinocchio;
Step up to me, and your career's as finished as Hulk Hogan's, bro!
Make like your son and call it quits; the votes are in: you're beaten,
And a million bucks says that won't change in any broadcast region!
Unlike Courtney with her lawyers, I'll make good on every threat;
I'm a Hitman on a McMahonhunt just like your old buddy Bret.
My franchise spotlights Amazons and breezes through the Bechdel Test;
Even Ezekiel knows your show's a chauvinistic sausage fest!

Vince McMahon:
Your talk of "Amazons" is all a ton of chatter, just like Rita;
Even Eva's an amoeba next to any of my Divas.
Fresh TV is going stale, and it's apparent that you're fired;
Should have caught the 3:10 back to Fametown back when Don was hired!
You remind me of my stepdad, and I'm glad you're not deceased,
'Cause now, not even Chef can bail you out from what I'll soon unleash!
I'll decimate your legacy entire: damnatio memoriae;
Once you get to oblivion, say "Hi" to Chris Benoit for me.
Your Wreck-ening's at hand, and the contestants best be scared;
Watch Rey Mysterio fly-kick your jumbo jet down in midair!
I'll sic ol' New Jack on your Owen, then neglect to ring the bell!
A legend then, now and forever!
John Cena: McMahon wins, LOL!

Chris McLean:
Tell Rickroll 2.0 his time ain't now, 'cause mine's not up, you cheater;
I won't let you screw me here, nor will I screw my own self, either.
Prime up for a Royal Rumble in this very ring, tonight:
I'm summoning some All-Stars; dropping two H-bombs, to be precise!

Harold: The peak of geek's back from the Aftermath, so hold on to your pants!
Heather: …And he's allied with this queen bee who's stinging like a bullet ant!
The wicked, two-faced and backstabbing lying little bitch is back!
Har: …And unlike Austin, she'll be rocking Stone Cold sober; that's a fact!
My name is Harold Norbert Cheever Doris McGrady the Fifth, bitch;
Funky Steve's Rhyme-Busting Camp gave me the skills with which I spit this!
A yo-yo-nunchaku master who can kick some major backside;
Needn't even rig the votes for us to win this by a landslide!
Hea: Wanna duke it out with Heather? What's your damage?! This witch brews doom;
Vinnie Mac couldn't even manage besting me beneath a blue moon!
No one trolls the queen of mean; my haters know this to be true.
Hell, I can even keep more dignity when shaven bald than you!
I've got your diary on hand, and don't know where I should begin!
Har: Perhaps his little daughter snapping into Macho Man's Slim Jim?
Hea: The steroid trial failed to bring you down, but let us tell you something:
Har + Hea: When we prosecute you lyrically, there's no escaping judgment!

Vince McMahon:
Heather seems to think this dweeb's her friend, and understands her truly,
But it's clear that all he wants from her's another peek at boobies.
Plus, if so-called double H-bombs are the best that Chris can muster,
I can top that in more ways than one; come on, now: take it, Hunter!

Triple H:
When you talk shit 'bout the boss's girl, you cross the King of Kings, bitch:
An ass-kicking's what you've asked for, so I'm stepping in to bring it!
Watch the terror in your unhappy campers rise when they see me.
My killer's blood runs cold and blue; that's why they cast me in Blade Three!
Now, are you ready to be buried by combat's NXT Evolution?
I'll assassinate you through cerebral verbal persecution!
Try to play me, and you're bound to lose! My Pedigree is vicious;
Straight-up shatter suckers' faces easily as Chyna dishes!
I'll atomic wedgie Harold 'til it's his obliteration;
Make him blow up like the namesake of his source of inspiration!
Then I'll have my way with that fat, gassy cow he calls his Venus;
She'll let me be her sledgehammer, and the hammer is my penis!
Frankly, I'll turn these two pussies Inside-Out fifteen times over;
Call me Thirty Hs, then, although I lack a chainsaw-boner!
I'll sink you for good, McLean; this is the day the drama died,
While I was singing: bye-bye, Mr. Canadian guy!