Days after the events of the Cannabis Cup, the Moral Army of Godly Americans are still licking their wounds after suffering a humiliating defeat at the hands of Team Centurion. Not only that, but the team also has to deal with their spiritual leader, Father Jefferson Cheney, being on the shelf for the foreseeable future.  A nervous looking O. Bay T-Law is sitting at the edge of his hotel bed. He has notes in front of him, but his eyes are firmly glued to the television, where a news anchor from Newsmax is discussing the FBI raid of Mar-A-Lago. Over on the other bed, Bartholomew "Boots" Lichter is casually scrolling through his phone. 

"What do you think Father Cheney would be saying right now?" 

"...hmm?"

Lichter barely looks up from his phone and over at T-Law.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably something about how the FBI has been radicalized by communists and we're in a banana republic or something like that." 

"Of course, that's a given. I mean how would he tie it to my upcoming match. He was always good at that, you know?"

Lichter just sort of shrugs and looks back to his phone, which angers T-Law. He slams his pen down on his notebook before fully turning to fact Lichter. 

"Are you listening to me at all? You're in charge of the Army for the time being! What even are you doing?"

Lichter cracks a slight smile before turning his phone to T-Law, revealing that he has been on Tinder the entire time. T-Law's face turns from one of anger to one of confusion.

"Seriously?"

"Mexican chicks are wild, especially if they think you have money. They'll pretty much let you do anything to them. Did I ever tell you about the one time when I met that whore in Peru…"

"Hang on. First of all, we're in Puerto Rico, not Mexico."

"Same thing. And besides, when did you get so "woke"?

"I'm just pointing that out just in case you get too drunk and you have to book your own flight back. Secondly, do Puerto Rican chicks really go for old white dudes?"

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you called me old. I'm a very attractive man. My smile and my charm can bring any woman to my bed…but yeah, I didn't exactly use one of MY pictures. I stole some from Thaddeus Duke's Twitter account."

"Thaddeus Du….you look nothing like him!" 

"That's what the Mexican chicks always say, but then I flash them a little cash, get them a couple drinks, and suddenly I'm "Papi" for the rest of the night."

T-Law responds with a look of disgust.

"Well, I'm glad you're having a great vacation. I'm nervous as hell over here. The Mar-A-Lago raid, the Kansas abortion vote, Father Cheney in the hospital - our movement needs a victory, and all that pressure rests on my shoulders! Of course, that wouldn't be the case if…"

"If what?"

Lichter slowly lowers his phone and sets it next to him on the bed. 

"If our team would have won the War Games match, is that what you were going to say?"

"You said it. I didn't." 

"Understand something, Othmur. There's a reason the old man gave me the blessing to lead the movement. It's because I never stop fighting, and I never ONCE second guess myself! You're scared to face three nobodies in the ring? How would you handle staring down four whores and the homosexual that hired them, all while millions of people in MAGA hats sit on their asses, praying we can win so we can somehow fix their miserable lives? This life is tough. Despite what Cheney says, the people we're up against aren't just going to fold. They're going to fight and claw and they won't always play clean. Can you deal with that?"

T-Law's face softens as he tries to take in Lichter's words.

"I think so."

"You can't think. You have to know. Those three people you're facing - Raab, Wish, and…uh…"

T-Law glances over at his notes, as he seems to have forgotten, as well.

"...Alex Blade."

"Yeah, Blade. They're not going to THINK they can handle the pressure. They KNOW it. There won't be a second of doubt in their minds. So, I'll ask you again - can you deal with that?"

A much more confident T-Law sits up straight and looks Lichter directly in the eyes.

"Damn right!"