[The feed clicks on to show a living icicle staring into the camera. Nudging it with its face, as if touching it will allow it to pass through somehow. Said icicle is pushed out of the way by another icicle, and then another. They all huddle around the camera, pushing it. Water starts to trickle down the screen and then freezes within seconds.

Cue one disgruntled groan from off-camera.]

Okay, seriously. Did you have to let them into my hotel room? I swear they've dropped the temperature by fifty degrees.

[There's a sad sort of whine before the 'Gear finally returns to its rightful owner.]

You know, compared to those lucha birds, these icicle guys actually make sense. It's Mahogany town-- the place has ice written all over it.

[And speaking of ice, his breath is visible as he speaks, and he might be shivering.]

But I'm not too big on the cold, so I'm more than happy to pass these guys on. The sooner they're gone, the sooner this place heats up.