Post by Stuart Slane on Aug 7, 2016 15:12:13 GMT -5
Sunday, July 31
East Rutherford, New Jersey
Izod Center
The Ultimate Showdown Main Event
Stuart Slane was killing it.
He dominated the early moments of Ultimate Showdown. Even as the target of every other man in the match, the current WCF World Champion was kicking butt and taking names; almost literally in some cases. Zombie McMorris? Boot to the face. Nathan Chambers? Same. Brent Alpine? Right in his gob. Teddy Blaze? You know it. His opponents were 'feeding' him, running at him blindly, and Stu with his size fifteen Timberlands were returning the favor with a steady diet of 'Melee of Sole'. Only Gemini Battle was able to avoid Slane’s heavy tread, but Stu had this. He had it. The Champ caught him on a carom and body slammed him. When Mister Pierce stumbled to his feet Slane rushed forward, snatched him up with one long rangy arm, and drove him to the mat with bone bruising force. All that was left was the pin; which happened, but not in the way he expected.
Slane felt the loss of equilibrium as someone caught him from behind and rolled him up. His shoulders were forced to the canvass, and held in place by someone with surprising strength. Bates? Would Thomas Bates of all people try for a schoolboy pin? No; it was Nathan Chambers. It figured. Slane took a deep breath and exhaled, pushing against the smaller man who held him down in order to break the hold.
Only he didn’t budge. And Stu heard the ref count “One!”
He attempted to shimmy free of Chambers’s pin, rocking from side to side to throw him off. But Nathan wasn’t going anywhere.
“Two!”
Slane panicked. The final second of his World title reign was spent in hopeless struggle. His legs flailed wildly, comically, in the air, trying to find leverage, trying to find some way to free himself.
“Three!”
And that was that.
Stuart Slane was no longer WCF Champion.
Dune’s feat of holding the title through Ultimate Showdown would not be repeated.
There would be no chance of a ‘Slane Slam’.
Forget WAR; Stuart wouldn’t even carry the title to Revenge.
But hey, according to the rules of the Showdown, he just ‘won’ one half of the Tag Titles. And with that ‘accomplishment’, he became the company’s seventh ‘Grand Slam’ Champion.
‘Grand Slam’ > ‘Slane Slam’, right? Not too shabby a consolation prize, as these things go.
Except Stuart Slane’s current disposition was beyond consoling after Ultimate Showdown.
And it was going to take a lot more than failing his way onto the same echelon as Eric Fudging Price for him to find any solace in WCF.
Sunday, July 31
East Rutherford, New Jersey
Izod Center
The WCF Locker Room
After his elimination from Ultimate Showdown, the quickest ever for the then World Champion he would later find out, Stuart dazedly made his way back to the dressing room. Brushing aside proffered sympathy or tentative inquisition with a brusque “Later”, the big man found a chair and parked himself in front of the flat screen carrying the show. Stu had missed Nathan Chambers’s pin, instead learning learned it was the former ‘Perfection’ Champion he was expected to defend Tag Titles with thanks to a replay. Seth was likely overjoyed that his proclivity for booking matches where the partners did not get along had additional validation. Slane and Chambers despised each other long before tonight, and being forced into an official team was not going to improve the tenor of their interactions. The acrimony the two shared had no bearing on the current situation, though. Stuart could have been paired with anyone from Ultimate Showdown, or anyone in the fed, and his thoughts on the Tag Titles would have remained the same.
Showdown continued. Teddy Blaze’s crisis of conscience was on display for the entire WCF Galaxy as he struggled with, but ultimately accepted, the duty of pinning Kevin Bishop. Doing so granted 'The Plague' the People’s Title the scarred young man had held for so long and, until TUS, represented so honorably. When Mister Blaze was almost immediately defeated afterwards to become WCF Internet Champion Stuart wondered if the former technico still felt betraying his friend and stablemate Spencer Adams had been worth the price. What shall it profit a man if he loses his own soul, but gains a world of funny animal gifs?
And then there were four: two men Stuart had history with, and two he did not. Brent Alpine, who before tonight was the thorniest burr in his backside, became United States Champion. Zombie McMorris traded in his Internet strap for what he would most assuredly rechristen the Hardcore Title. Only the Tag Champions remained to fight for the fed's Television and World Title. Thomas Bates and Gemini Battle managed to finagle their way into Ultimate Showdown on the previous Slam; a bit of gamesmanship that hadn’t sat right with Stuart at the time. But now that they were in Showdown the duo proved had they belonged. The last two men to enter the contest were the last two standing. TUS had become an all DRG affair, with the long suffering Mister Pierce finally capturing the prize that had eluded him for years when he brought down the Mountain.
Gemini Battle, the man Stuart had beaten in first in the WCF Classic during his rise to the top, had just taken his spot. The fact Slane was expected to defend the means the new World Champion had used to supplant him had become one final ironic twist, or swerve if you wwwwhhheeeeeellll, of the knife. And speaking of the Tag Titles…
There was a tap on Slane’s back. Stuart turned and saw one of WCF’s road agents standing behind him. Slung over his shoulder a bit too comfortably was one of the company’s Tag belts.
Agent: Hey, Stu, you forgot this.
He gestured to the strap. Gemini Battle’s nameplate was still on it. Slane seemingly no sold this salt to the still fresh wound. He rose from his chair and trudged over to his locker.
Slane: I didn’t forget.
Agent: Huh? What’s that mean?
Stuart opened the door and pulled out his duffel bag.
Slane: I’m not accepting the Tag Title. Take the belt back to Seth or whomever is in charge while he recuperates from his match with Oblivion.
The agent, a journeyman wrestler who never came close to winning a championship as prestigious as the one he was delivering, scoffed.
Agent: You were serious about that?
Slane unzipped his bag and fished out his shaving kit. Opening that up he removed a roll on deodorant. He then peeled his shirt, clingy and clammy from cooled sweat, from his torso.
Slane: I was dead serious.
Stuart opened his Speedstick and dabbed at his pits, ignoring the road agent.
Agent: Yeah, well, you can’t do that. Rules of the match say the first man out gets the Tag belt. This is yours. Take it and follow me for pictures.
Slane: I’m aware of the rules. I’m choosing not to obey them. Nor am I posing with a belt I did not earn.
Exasperated, the WCF official slid the heavy belt off his shoulder and dropped it onto Slane’s bag.
Agent: Stop being a pig-headed prima donna bitch, Slane. Pick up that- mmph!
Slane pie-faced the smaller yet still robust man with his free hand, shoving him into his open locker. He then, after several attempts, slammed the door on him. Bracing his weight against, it Stuart set the padlock. The agent could be heard inside, spewing tinny, echoing threats through the slats. Slane turned to acknowledge the small crowd of stagehands and jobbers who had stopped to watch the confrontation.
Slane: Calling me pig-headed was the last straw. I have zero tolerance for hate speech.
Stuart’s deadpan delivery assured that the joke fell flat with the crowd but the imperatives that followed were understood and obeyed completely. As the former PETS (People for the Ethical Treatment of Swine) Paladin slipped on his spare tee shirt he told the assemblage:
Slane: Let him out and I’ll find a locker to put you in next week at Slam.
He then gently eased his duffel bag out from under the belt, making sure it rested evenly atop the bench. He pointed to the unclaimed trophy.
Slane: That stays here for Seth. Any one of you tries to take it for yourselves I’ll bury you so deep they’ll never find you.
His message sent, Stuart Slane took his bag and left the arena. It would be a week before the WCF would see him again.
Sunday, August 7
Manchester, New Hampshire
Verizon Wireless Arena
WCF Locker Room
Slane was sitting in front of a row of lockers. He had on his ring gear: the green compression tee shirt and tan carpenter shorts. No WCF Tag Title belt was in sight.
Slane: I will spend some time addressing my opponents tonight before moving on to other matters. Nation of Wrestling; are you there? You haven’t become the Lost Nation of Wrestling, have you? The Atlantis of Wrestling? No one has heard a peep from any of you since Ultimate Showdown. If you're in hiding I can relate. Showdown wasn’t exactly my finest hour either. However, losing a match to Corey Black isn’t the end of the world. Some people, not me, consider Mister Black the greatest wrestler to ever grace Wrestling Championship Federation. Zombie McMorris repeatedly stated he wanted Corey Black to be his first challenger for the WCF World Championship if he had won it at TUS; which to me was just further evidence ZMAC didn’t deserve the belt in the first place. But we’re off topic. My thoughts on Mister McMorris's supposed 'money match' was something that should have been said two weeks ago when it counted. What matters now is your status in the company. You didn’t let Mister Black scare you off, did you? It would be a shame if you did. Many of his chosen targets overcome his harassment and go on to have fair to middling careers here in the Wrestling Championship Federation. Doc Henry and Adam Young are both company legends, and Mister Black used them to assert his supposed dominance many times. It’s what he does. Granted Corey Black targeted you in the first place because he saw the Nation as easy marks to call out in his gambit to remain relevant while avoiding any risk of failure. The fact he was willing to face one of you to stroke his ego is all I need to know. It tells me even collectively you don't have what it takes to defeat myself and Mister Chambers. Whatever pairing you put together to wrestle us or even if the match is to be fought under “Freebird Rules”; not a single member of the Nation of Wrestling is at our level. I don’t care how big Colossus is, or how fast Johnny Waubonnsie works, or how motivated Vic Viceroy must be at this moment to bounce back from his previous thrashing. What you bring to the match tonight, assuming you’re even here, will not be enough. You have no counter to my power and experience, or to Nathan Chambers’s technique and hustle. Now, you may see opportunity because Mister Chambers and I do not get along. There is certainly an advantage to a team using actual teamwork. That hope you might be feeling, however, is false. Nathan Chambers and I have partnered in matches all summer, and with one exception we have been successful, defeating opponents far more talented and recognized than any of you. To be honest, what Seth has done to you is unfair. He allowed Corey Black to take liberties with you, to almost haze you, in an effort to prop up his own crumbling self-esteem, and now that you’ve played your part of ‘shiny red sports car’ to Creeping Death’s wrestling mid-life crisis, you’ve been selected to face us. It is a shame, and you have my condolences for the punitive booking thrown at you. Again, this point may be moot, as you’ve all seemingly vanished from the WCF Galaxy, but even in your possible absentia you have my sympathies.
Slane: As does my partner. Nathan Chambers, Ultimate Showdown was a bad night for you as well. You started strong by pinning me, and eliminating the World Champion. It must have felt redemptive to deny me the title I kept from you in the WCF Classic. But then, not a minute later, you joined me in defeat. Your already dodgy claim of ‘Perfection’ was put in the ground by ZMAC’s Axe Wound finisher. No more could you say your losses were the responsibility of someone else. Your Showdown defeat is pinned, literally,on your own shoulders.
Slane: As I’m sure you’re aware those other losses can both be traced back to me. I cost you the WCF Title by pinning my friend Jeff Purse at Blast. Your other previous defeat? That came when I walked out of our match against Dat Hawt American Darkness. And now, NOW, who are you dragooned into teaming with according to the stipulations of Ultimate Showdown? Who does WCF want you to defend the Tag Titles with? Yours truly, Stuart Slane. These circumstances must gall you to no end. I know they are a bitter pill for me. That’s why I propose an out to our current predicament: pick another partner. I know you’re not the most esteemed member of the locker room but your claim to a WCF Championship should convince most to overlook your many, many personal flaws. Most of the talent spent the last Pay Per View on the outside looking in at the fed’s title picture. That should make the task of finding someone willing and able to assume the duties of Tag Champion even easier. Yes, a replacement for me is the most logical solution to both our problems. Another person on the roster gets a shot to prove themselves, and I won’t be forced to circumvent the responsibility of fighting for the honor of a belt I do not deserve. The only possible complication is the objection of Seth Lerch, but given how shabbily he treated the Tag Titles in the build towards Ultimate Showdown I can’t imagine him protesting too loudly. He let Freezer Burn use his open title shot to bring the division back and then allowed Gemini Battle to swan in at the eleventh hour and stake his claim to the belts just so he could enter TUS. What I’m proposing doesn’t damage the prestige of the Titles any more than those actions, or any more than what the rules of Ultimate Showdown have already done.
Slane: A change in alliance will be a matter for a later date, obviously. Tonight, during Slam, we’ll be going by what is on the card. Stuart Slane and Nathan Chambers against the Nation of Wrestling. And just like all of our of our other matches, I am in it to win it. I won’t be no-showing. I won’t be walking out you. I won’t take a dive or be responsible for some shocking swerve that sees us lose. No one, not the fans, not you, not me, not even the NoW if present, deserves that. The WCF Galaxy should expect no less than my best effort during our match. And they will get it. Scout’s Honor.
East Rutherford, New Jersey
Izod Center
The Ultimate Showdown Main Event
Stuart Slane was killing it.
He dominated the early moments of Ultimate Showdown. Even as the target of every other man in the match, the current WCF World Champion was kicking butt and taking names; almost literally in some cases. Zombie McMorris? Boot to the face. Nathan Chambers? Same. Brent Alpine? Right in his gob. Teddy Blaze? You know it. His opponents were 'feeding' him, running at him blindly, and Stu with his size fifteen Timberlands were returning the favor with a steady diet of 'Melee of Sole'. Only Gemini Battle was able to avoid Slane’s heavy tread, but Stu had this. He had it. The Champ caught him on a carom and body slammed him. When Mister Pierce stumbled to his feet Slane rushed forward, snatched him up with one long rangy arm, and drove him to the mat with bone bruising force. All that was left was the pin; which happened, but not in the way he expected.
Slane felt the loss of equilibrium as someone caught him from behind and rolled him up. His shoulders were forced to the canvass, and held in place by someone with surprising strength. Bates? Would Thomas Bates of all people try for a schoolboy pin? No; it was Nathan Chambers. It figured. Slane took a deep breath and exhaled, pushing against the smaller man who held him down in order to break the hold.
Only he didn’t budge. And Stu heard the ref count “One!”
He attempted to shimmy free of Chambers’s pin, rocking from side to side to throw him off. But Nathan wasn’t going anywhere.
“Two!”
Slane panicked. The final second of his World title reign was spent in hopeless struggle. His legs flailed wildly, comically, in the air, trying to find leverage, trying to find some way to free himself.
“Three!”
And that was that.
Stuart Slane was no longer WCF Champion.
Dune’s feat of holding the title through Ultimate Showdown would not be repeated.
There would be no chance of a ‘Slane Slam’.
Forget WAR; Stuart wouldn’t even carry the title to Revenge.
But hey, according to the rules of the Showdown, he just ‘won’ one half of the Tag Titles. And with that ‘accomplishment’, he became the company’s seventh ‘Grand Slam’ Champion.
‘Grand Slam’ > ‘Slane Slam’, right? Not too shabby a consolation prize, as these things go.
Except Stuart Slane’s current disposition was beyond consoling after Ultimate Showdown.
And it was going to take a lot more than failing his way onto the same echelon as Eric Fudging Price for him to find any solace in WCF.
Sunday, July 31
East Rutherford, New Jersey
Izod Center
The WCF Locker Room
After his elimination from Ultimate Showdown, the quickest ever for the then World Champion he would later find out, Stuart dazedly made his way back to the dressing room. Brushing aside proffered sympathy or tentative inquisition with a brusque “Later”, the big man found a chair and parked himself in front of the flat screen carrying the show. Stu had missed Nathan Chambers’s pin, instead learning learned it was the former ‘Perfection’ Champion he was expected to defend Tag Titles with thanks to a replay. Seth was likely overjoyed that his proclivity for booking matches where the partners did not get along had additional validation. Slane and Chambers despised each other long before tonight, and being forced into an official team was not going to improve the tenor of their interactions. The acrimony the two shared had no bearing on the current situation, though. Stuart could have been paired with anyone from Ultimate Showdown, or anyone in the fed, and his thoughts on the Tag Titles would have remained the same.
Showdown continued. Teddy Blaze’s crisis of conscience was on display for the entire WCF Galaxy as he struggled with, but ultimately accepted, the duty of pinning Kevin Bishop. Doing so granted 'The Plague' the People’s Title the scarred young man had held for so long and, until TUS, represented so honorably. When Mister Blaze was almost immediately defeated afterwards to become WCF Internet Champion Stuart wondered if the former technico still felt betraying his friend and stablemate Spencer Adams had been worth the price. What shall it profit a man if he loses his own soul, but gains a world of funny animal gifs?
And then there were four: two men Stuart had history with, and two he did not. Brent Alpine, who before tonight was the thorniest burr in his backside, became United States Champion. Zombie McMorris traded in his Internet strap for what he would most assuredly rechristen the Hardcore Title. Only the Tag Champions remained to fight for the fed's Television and World Title. Thomas Bates and Gemini Battle managed to finagle their way into Ultimate Showdown on the previous Slam; a bit of gamesmanship that hadn’t sat right with Stuart at the time. But now that they were in Showdown the duo proved had they belonged. The last two men to enter the contest were the last two standing. TUS had become an all DRG affair, with the long suffering Mister Pierce finally capturing the prize that had eluded him for years when he brought down the Mountain.
Gemini Battle, the man Stuart had beaten in first in the WCF Classic during his rise to the top, had just taken his spot. The fact Slane was expected to defend the means the new World Champion had used to supplant him had become one final ironic twist, or swerve if you wwwwhhheeeeeellll, of the knife. And speaking of the Tag Titles…
There was a tap on Slane’s back. Stuart turned and saw one of WCF’s road agents standing behind him. Slung over his shoulder a bit too comfortably was one of the company’s Tag belts.
Agent: Hey, Stu, you forgot this.
He gestured to the strap. Gemini Battle’s nameplate was still on it. Slane seemingly no sold this salt to the still fresh wound. He rose from his chair and trudged over to his locker.
Slane: I didn’t forget.
Agent: Huh? What’s that mean?
Stuart opened the door and pulled out his duffel bag.
Slane: I’m not accepting the Tag Title. Take the belt back to Seth or whomever is in charge while he recuperates from his match with Oblivion.
The agent, a journeyman wrestler who never came close to winning a championship as prestigious as the one he was delivering, scoffed.
Agent: You were serious about that?
Slane unzipped his bag and fished out his shaving kit. Opening that up he removed a roll on deodorant. He then peeled his shirt, clingy and clammy from cooled sweat, from his torso.
Slane: I was dead serious.
Stuart opened his Speedstick and dabbed at his pits, ignoring the road agent.
Agent: Yeah, well, you can’t do that. Rules of the match say the first man out gets the Tag belt. This is yours. Take it and follow me for pictures.
Slane: I’m aware of the rules. I’m choosing not to obey them. Nor am I posing with a belt I did not earn.
Exasperated, the WCF official slid the heavy belt off his shoulder and dropped it onto Slane’s bag.
Agent: Stop being a pig-headed prima donna bitch, Slane. Pick up that- mmph!
Slane pie-faced the smaller yet still robust man with his free hand, shoving him into his open locker. He then, after several attempts, slammed the door on him. Bracing his weight against, it Stuart set the padlock. The agent could be heard inside, spewing tinny, echoing threats through the slats. Slane turned to acknowledge the small crowd of stagehands and jobbers who had stopped to watch the confrontation.
Slane: Calling me pig-headed was the last straw. I have zero tolerance for hate speech.
Stuart’s deadpan delivery assured that the joke fell flat with the crowd but the imperatives that followed were understood and obeyed completely. As the former PETS (People for the Ethical Treatment of Swine) Paladin slipped on his spare tee shirt he told the assemblage:
Slane: Let him out and I’ll find a locker to put you in next week at Slam.
He then gently eased his duffel bag out from under the belt, making sure it rested evenly atop the bench. He pointed to the unclaimed trophy.
Slane: That stays here for Seth. Any one of you tries to take it for yourselves I’ll bury you so deep they’ll never find you.
His message sent, Stuart Slane took his bag and left the arena. It would be a week before the WCF would see him again.
Sunday, August 7
Manchester, New Hampshire
Verizon Wireless Arena
WCF Locker Room
Slane was sitting in front of a row of lockers. He had on his ring gear: the green compression tee shirt and tan carpenter shorts. No WCF Tag Title belt was in sight.
Slane: I will spend some time addressing my opponents tonight before moving on to other matters. Nation of Wrestling; are you there? You haven’t become the Lost Nation of Wrestling, have you? The Atlantis of Wrestling? No one has heard a peep from any of you since Ultimate Showdown. If you're in hiding I can relate. Showdown wasn’t exactly my finest hour either. However, losing a match to Corey Black isn’t the end of the world. Some people, not me, consider Mister Black the greatest wrestler to ever grace Wrestling Championship Federation. Zombie McMorris repeatedly stated he wanted Corey Black to be his first challenger for the WCF World Championship if he had won it at TUS; which to me was just further evidence ZMAC didn’t deserve the belt in the first place. But we’re off topic. My thoughts on Mister McMorris's supposed 'money match' was something that should have been said two weeks ago when it counted. What matters now is your status in the company. You didn’t let Mister Black scare you off, did you? It would be a shame if you did. Many of his chosen targets overcome his harassment and go on to have fair to middling careers here in the Wrestling Championship Federation. Doc Henry and Adam Young are both company legends, and Mister Black used them to assert his supposed dominance many times. It’s what he does. Granted Corey Black targeted you in the first place because he saw the Nation as easy marks to call out in his gambit to remain relevant while avoiding any risk of failure. The fact he was willing to face one of you to stroke his ego is all I need to know. It tells me even collectively you don't have what it takes to defeat myself and Mister Chambers. Whatever pairing you put together to wrestle us or even if the match is to be fought under “Freebird Rules”; not a single member of the Nation of Wrestling is at our level. I don’t care how big Colossus is, or how fast Johnny Waubonnsie works, or how motivated Vic Viceroy must be at this moment to bounce back from his previous thrashing. What you bring to the match tonight, assuming you’re even here, will not be enough. You have no counter to my power and experience, or to Nathan Chambers’s technique and hustle. Now, you may see opportunity because Mister Chambers and I do not get along. There is certainly an advantage to a team using actual teamwork. That hope you might be feeling, however, is false. Nathan Chambers and I have partnered in matches all summer, and with one exception we have been successful, defeating opponents far more talented and recognized than any of you. To be honest, what Seth has done to you is unfair. He allowed Corey Black to take liberties with you, to almost haze you, in an effort to prop up his own crumbling self-esteem, and now that you’ve played your part of ‘shiny red sports car’ to Creeping Death’s wrestling mid-life crisis, you’ve been selected to face us. It is a shame, and you have my condolences for the punitive booking thrown at you. Again, this point may be moot, as you’ve all seemingly vanished from the WCF Galaxy, but even in your possible absentia you have my sympathies.
Slane: As does my partner. Nathan Chambers, Ultimate Showdown was a bad night for you as well. You started strong by pinning me, and eliminating the World Champion. It must have felt redemptive to deny me the title I kept from you in the WCF Classic. But then, not a minute later, you joined me in defeat. Your already dodgy claim of ‘Perfection’ was put in the ground by ZMAC’s Axe Wound finisher. No more could you say your losses were the responsibility of someone else. Your Showdown defeat is pinned, literally,on your own shoulders.
Slane: As I’m sure you’re aware those other losses can both be traced back to me. I cost you the WCF Title by pinning my friend Jeff Purse at Blast. Your other previous defeat? That came when I walked out of our match against Dat Hawt American Darkness. And now, NOW, who are you dragooned into teaming with according to the stipulations of Ultimate Showdown? Who does WCF want you to defend the Tag Titles with? Yours truly, Stuart Slane. These circumstances must gall you to no end. I know they are a bitter pill for me. That’s why I propose an out to our current predicament: pick another partner. I know you’re not the most esteemed member of the locker room but your claim to a WCF Championship should convince most to overlook your many, many personal flaws. Most of the talent spent the last Pay Per View on the outside looking in at the fed’s title picture. That should make the task of finding someone willing and able to assume the duties of Tag Champion even easier. Yes, a replacement for me is the most logical solution to both our problems. Another person on the roster gets a shot to prove themselves, and I won’t be forced to circumvent the responsibility of fighting for the honor of a belt I do not deserve. The only possible complication is the objection of Seth Lerch, but given how shabbily he treated the Tag Titles in the build towards Ultimate Showdown I can’t imagine him protesting too loudly. He let Freezer Burn use his open title shot to bring the division back and then allowed Gemini Battle to swan in at the eleventh hour and stake his claim to the belts just so he could enter TUS. What I’m proposing doesn’t damage the prestige of the Titles any more than those actions, or any more than what the rules of Ultimate Showdown have already done.
Slane: A change in alliance will be a matter for a later date, obviously. Tonight, during Slam, we’ll be going by what is on the card. Stuart Slane and Nathan Chambers against the Nation of Wrestling. And just like all of our of our other matches, I am in it to win it. I won’t be no-showing. I won’t be walking out you. I won’t take a dive or be responsible for some shocking swerve that sees us lose. No one, not the fans, not you, not me, not even the NoW if present, deserves that. The WCF Galaxy should expect no less than my best effort during our match. And they will get it. Scout’s Honor.
