Kirk, let's be friends. I know I may have betrayed you. After we traded some cards, fate would have it that we would meet each other in Nachos Grande's bracketous field of battle. I must say, you certainly put up a fight, using your grandmother as an all-too-human shield. I did not see it coming. I was blindsided, but not in the adopt-an-athletic-teenager-to-get-rich way. The only thing I could do was post an epic tale of battle myself. And so was told the story of the seventh card of Stadium Club. In a late burst of votes, I came away the victor (and maybe in part due to my shameful plea), blazing to the next round burdened with the guilt of defeating not just a friend, but his grandmother, too.
So Kirk, I say to you, let's be friends. Let's put the past behind us. Let us look on brighter things, such as these cards you sent me:
Nothing like a good BJ to solidify a friendship.