Post by .PAAK on Apr 24, 2016 20:56:21 GMT -6
Hey, what’s going on?
My name is...well, my name isn’t really important, not in this instance. This little diatribe isn’t about me―it’s about our two protagonists.
I’m sure there was some stuff that you missed in the first go-around. Wrapping your head around those two, well, it can be extremely tricky―believe me. So, I’m here to provide a little bit of context for you. Now, try not to get too attached. I won’t be around around all the time; only when things become extremely taxing.
But, I digress. I’ve talked about myself too much. Let’s get into the thick of things, shall we?
Let’s begin by talking about Japanese history and infrastructure for a moment. Historically, Japan has been shaped and ruled by three fundamental organizations. Although, we call them syndicates:
1. The smallest of the three is the Inagawa-kai Syndicate. They’ve got about fifteen thousand people working for them, give or take a few hundred. What they lack in size, they make up for with ambition and tenacity. Out the three, the Inagawa-kai people were the first to start exporting and expanding their reach out to other lands and continents. That’s huge if you think about it, considering the fact Japan had been closed off to the world for so long.
2. Next up is the Sumiyoshi-kai; they’re the second largest. They’ve got about twenty thousand workers spread across Japan and the world. Sumiyoshi-kai is a hotbed for young upstarts. If you were compare it to an American company, it would probably be akin to Google. There’s less structure, the work-environment is more laid back, the company code is more lax. Sounds amazing right? Those perks are what normally draw people in.
3. And last, but certainly not least, you’ve got the big dog in the yard―the Yamaguchi-gumi. It’s the one that I work for, and it’s the best. I might be a bit biased though. Our company functions like a well-oiled machine. And, our pay is outstanding; better than the other two organizations. Anyway, the Yamaguchi-gumi employs over fifty thousand people. The head office is here in Kobe, Japan; however, we’ve got large branches China, Los Angeles, and New York. Like I said before, we are the best.
Now, you might be asking yourself, “what exactly do these companies do?” Or, “what do they sell and how do they make their money?” Well, I can’t answer that; I’m not a liberty to say. Perhaps you could look up the organizations on the web—just be careful what you type in.
So, let’s switch topics and talk about Raiden Hiruma for a moment.
Raiden and I work together over at Yamaguchi-gumi. I’ve known him for quite a number of years. He and his father are members of the Isshi Ookami clan, AKA “The Stone Wolves.” The Isshi Ookami have worked for Yamaguchi-gumi for centuries. They are strong-minded and driven people.
Mr. Himura has worked worked in the company for years. He’s got a nifty office, wonderful pay, and thousands of wonderful subordinates. About twenty one years ago, he brought Raiden into the fold. Since then, Raiden has shaped up to be a fantastic member of the Yamaguchi-gumi organization.
Now, Raiden isn’t as successful as his father, not yet. But, there’s no doubt that he will be.
You see, there’s a reason why he’s such a high commodity―that tongue of his. If you’re his friend and you’re just having a mild conversation, you may not notice anything out of the ordinary. However, if you hear the man give a speech or presentation or something―my God! The way he strings words together is simply masterful.
However, please don’t tell him you heard me say that. There’s no need to inflate the man’s ego; you know what I mean?
Hmm. Well, I guess there’s only one more piece to this puzzle―Myung Pak. Now, you’ve probably already guessed it, yeah, Myung works for Yamaguchi-gumi as well. Nevertheless, she has a different position than me or Raiden. Although, Raiden is her boss, her direct supervisor. In a sense, you could say that Myung is an ambassador or representative of the company. And of course, she represents our illustrious organization in the realm of professional wrestling.
With her, things go something like this:
The Yamaguchi-gumi backs and sponsors her and she travels around wrestling.
She walks into the ring and kicks ass.
Both she and Yamaguchi-gumi reap the benefits and rewards of her talent and notoriety
Everyone wins, and everyone goes home happy.
Ha, it’s kind of weird if you think about it. The Yamaguchi-gumi employs a lot of people; and most of them aren’t nearly as valuable and marketable as this twenty-three year old woman. It’s quite amazing, honestly. And, that’s why it’s quite intriguing that our little Myung has been sent halfway across the world. Actually, fuck “halfway,” she was sent across the world. It’s a big leap, and a huge responsibility. But, the Boss wouldn’t have sent her if he didn’t think she was ready.
Soooooo, yeah. I want to say that covers just about everything for today. I’m not sure what else I could really add. I gave you all some facts, gave you all some context. I think that’s about all that needs to be said.
Well, that being said, I suppose I’m going to take my leave.
So, until we meet again…
II
If you were a New Yorker, and in need to a delectable shaken milk treat, then you went to the Milkshake Company. It was one the cornerstones of New York’s frozen treat palace.
“Order anything you’d like, Raiden.” The slightly taller Japanese man patted Raiden Himura on the shoulder. “The Milkshake Company has the best milkshakes in all of New York City. Everything on the menu amazing!”
It was just a little bit past noon, therefore, the shop was crowded as all get out. People began to make a large semi-circle around the two men as they all attempted to glance at the menu. “Shit.” Raiden stared up disinterested at the massive menu that hung on the wall. There were so many flavors; the combinations of letters literally jumped out and slapped him in the face. He placed his right hand on his forehead and shook his head a little bit. “I’m not really in the mood for anything, Yano. Shouldn’t we be getting down to business anyway?”
“Order something,” Yano said. There was a slight change in his voice. It was more stern, more authoritative. He then tossed out a sly smile to alleviate the mood. Despite his colleagues’ antics, Raiden had to remember that Yano still outranked him. The man just ordered him to pick a milkshake, so that’s what he was going to do. “Fine fine,” Raiden said. “Let’s just order and get it over with then.”
“Good. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
The two of them turned away from the wall menu. As they did, the sea of people mildly parted to let them out. “I thought New Yorkers were supposed to be rude as hell,” Raiden thought to himself. Perhaps the people separated due to their appearance. Yano had been sporting an jet black Hugo Boss suit, while Raiden wore charcoal Armani ensemble. To the average person, they would have appeared to be a couple of important businessmen.
Or, it could have been the slight scowl on Raiden’s face, which was caused by his frustration.
Either way, a path was cleared. The two Japanese men strolled over the the checkout counter. Raiden glanced over as he spotted the cashier. “Hmm, she looks about Myung’s age,” he thought.
The cashier was young, probably twenty-two or twenty-three. Her curly red hair was pinned up and stuff under a Milkshake Company hat. The young lady offered up a sheepish smile as they approached. “Are you two ready to order?” She asked.
“Yes we are,” Yano said in English he as he took a step closer to the counter. “I think I’m going to have the White Chocolate Cheesecake milkshake.” Yano turned to Raiden. “And he’ll have―”
“Vanilla please,” Raiden blurted out.
“Vanilla for Mr. Plane-Jane over here,” Yano said to the cashier with a smile.
The woman responded with a smile of her own before she began to ring up their total. “That will be $10.57 please.”
Yano reached into his back-pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slid out a black card and handed it to the young woman. “There you go.” She quickly wiped and returned the card before she rushed off to the back.
Yano turned and spotted the look on his colleagues face. Raiden’s brow was ruffled and wrinkled―it reeked of annoyance. “Stow your annoyance, Raiden,” Yano said in Japanese as he chuckled a bit and shook his head. “You’re always so serious. I don’t know how Myung can stand to be around you.”
A short while later, the girl returns with the milkshakes, along with two straws. “I’m sorry for your wait.”
“Hush now, it’s not a problem beautiful. Thank you for your kind service.” Yano responded.
The young woman blushed. “Er, thank you. Please enjoy, and have a good day.”
“Same to you to you.”
Raiden and Yano grabbed their drinks and then exited the building. Yano unwrapped his straw and jammed into his cup. He took a big long sip. “Raiden, these babies are better than sex I tell you.” He took another look sip as the two began walking down the street. Raiden didn’t respond; simply fumbled with his straw.
There was a reason why Raiden had made it up the ranks as far as he had in the Yamaguchi-gumi. There was also a reason why the Boss favored and enjoyed his company. If the man was anything, it was goal oriented. If there was work to be done, then Raiden would literally kill himself to make sure that work was completed in a timely and efficient manner. He didn’t see how their “milkshake break” could help anything, especially since they allegedly had business to speak about.
Yano’s eyes averted towards Raiden. “What’s one of the most important aspects of completing a covert mission, Raiden?” He asked in Japan.
“Not blowing your cover.”
“That’s correct,” Yano responded. “Raiden, this is America. And yes, while certain aspects of American culture are similar to our own, it has it’s own complexities.” He took another sip of his drink. “The purpose of making you come out here was to try and get you used to blending in...and, to try and get you to loosen up a bit. In Japan, you could simply walk around with a shiny suit and handle business―because people knew who you were, and who you worked for.
“Over here, that’s not going to fly. You’ve got to be discrete, you’ve got to blend in, and you’ve got to assimilate (just a little bit anyway)―all while getting the job done.” He held up his left index finger. “And since your primary objective is to guide Myung’s path here in America, blending in and assimilating should be step number one. And so, that’s why we are drinking these American sugary death-trap―plus, I love them.”
He didn’t understand at first; however Raiden couldn’t really argue with Yano’s logic. Being an angry faced man walking around in a suit twenty-four-seven probably wasn’t the best idea. “You’re right.” He let out a sigh; he had finally given in. Raiden shrugged. He jammed his straw into his cup and raised it to his lips. His eyebrows perked up at the flavors that swirled around on his tongue. “Wow, that is pretty good.”
“Told you,” Yano responded with a sly smirk.
“So tell me, how did you begin blending in?” Raiden asked between sips
“Well,” Yano began. “I started small. I changed up my clothing and style of dress. You and I are in suits right now because it’s the middle of the day; it wouldn’t be uncommon for two businessmen to be dressed this way. However, if I need to go to the store or something at night, I dress down. A Ralph Lauren Polo, some slacks, etc.” He took a sip. “Second, outsiders are easily spotted here in New York. They are stuffy, they don’t know where things are, and they act like they’ve never been in the big city before.” He patted Raiden on the back. “Now, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re a thinker, a planner. In a couple of weeks, you’ve learned the city better than some natives have. Now, we just got to work on the little things, like looking the part...oh, and mingling with people, like I did back there a few minutes ago.”
Yano reached into his other back pocket; he revealed a white envelope. “In here are two black cards; one for you and Myung. Go out there and get yourselves some shit. An iPhone, a Macbook, new clothes, all that. Live like an American!” Raiden takes the envelope and places it in his inside breast pocket. “Roger that,” Raiden said as he also took another sip. “We’ll do better to blend in. Although, I’m not sure Myung will actually ever fit in here.”
Yano rose an eyebrow. “Is the girl having some problem? I certainly hope not.”
“It’s not wrestling related, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Raiden replied. “It’s just...well, Myung hasn’t really been around people, you know? Not in a friendly manner anyway. I mean she works with you, me, and the rest of the Yamaguchi-gumi. She’s been around her trainers and her tutors.
“But as far as having friends or people her age to interact with―she’s never had that. She sometimes feels awkward and out of place when were are out in the streets.”
Yano nodded his head. “Aye yes, I see.” He let out a sigh. “That’s something we’ll have to work on. Fortunately, there are a couple of other young Yamaguchi-gumi members here in New York as well. A couple are wrestlers, a couple are singers. They are around Myung’s age as well. Maybe introducing them might help. Most of them are out of town until the weekend. I’ll set it up for when they return.”
“Yeah, that’s sound like a good idea,” Raiden replied. “I’m sure she’d greatly appreciate it.”
Yano let out another laugh. “Of course, of course. Anything for our alluring, illustrious money maker, right?” He took a small sip of his drink. “Speaking of which, how is she fairing?”
Surely, he was referring to her first Visionaries of Wrestling match. In her promotional video, Raiden stated in no uncertain terms that the match would a war. Raiden was a lot of things, but a liar he was not. A war was delivered as .PAAK and Datura beat the living shit out of each other. It was quite a spectacle, but not one of mere glitz and flashiness.
It was a violent showcase―and the wrestling world loved it.
Fortunately for .PAAK, her opponent had a quick lapse of mental judgement in the closing moments of the bout. It was something that Raiden had anticipated and accounted for. Sure, Datura was a fearsome competitor, and an intelligent woman. However, she had track record of breaking down late in matches, especially when she was out matched.
“Myung?” Raide shrugged mildly. “She’s doing fine, I suppose. She was a bit sore, but I believe she’s back at one hundred percent.” He let out a small chuckle himself. “Hell, even if she were truly hurt, I don’t think she’d tell me. She’d grit her teeth and fight through the pain; that’s what she does.” He took a sip of his shake. “All I know is, she was back in gym three days later, working and making gains. And she’s appeared to be her normal content and calm self during our interactions over the past week or so.” Raiden took a sip as he peered at his watch. “In fact, she should be training as we speak. She’s gung-ho on proving a point against this Kincaid character.”
“That’s wonderful,” Yano said. “I don’t watch much wrestling, but I did tune in to see that match. She is quite amazing, isn’t she?”
There was a peculiar inflection in Yano’s last statement. Raiden picked up on it right away, although he didn’t know meaning behind it. He categorized the inflection and pushed it to the back of his brain for later analysis.
“Indeed she is,” Raiden responded. “But, enough leisurely talk,” he said. “You mentioned there was other business?”
“Aye, yes! Where to begin? Where to begin?”
―To Be Continued
III
Warning: the following Visionaries of Wrestling audio log is likely to contain high levels of knowledge, profanity, and other expletives. View discretion is advised for sensitive or weak-minded people. Thank you.
Hi, Hello, Good Evening!
/His voice crackled and boomed to life with perfect clarity/
For those of you who are unintelligent, uninformed, or have had their heads buried in the sand, my name is Raiden Himura. And, I happen to represent one person in particular. She’s tenacious, she’s dangerous, she’s deadly―she’s .PAAK.
Sidenote, let’s talk about pronunciation for a brief moment, shall we. I’m only mentioning this because I’m severely disappointed in Visionaries of Wrestling, commentators, and their collective effort this past event. America is the greatest, smartest nation in the universe, correct? That’s how you all portray yourselves to the rest of the world. And, according to most sources, VoW is one of the best wrestling promotions in the world.
And yet, its workers are so utterly moronic that they can’t pronounce my client’s name? Hmm―how dreadful.
Therefore, I’m going to say this one time. I’m going to say it slowly, so everyone in their right mind (and perhaps demented) will be able to understand. And for added bonus, I’m going to give you phonetic linchpin.
Are you ready for it? Are you bursting at the seams with anticipation? Well well, here it goes: take the name of your favorite “thug life rapper” Tupac―and then drop off the “Tu.”
Simple? Simple indeed. Now, let’s move on.
/There’s a sigh/
Logic would normally dictate that I’d transition into speaking about this card’s opponent; and, we’ll do that shortly. However, I’d be remiss if I didn’t speak about the last bout, at least briefly.
And to that, I ask―does Raiden Himura deliver?
Or better yet, does .PAAK deliver?
You see, what I did a few weeks ago was very bold, borderline arrogant. Dear fans, what you may not know is that there are many, shall we say, unwritten customs in professional wrestling. More often than not, debuting wrestlers are expected to be meek. They are required to shut their mouths, take their lumps, and not dare outshine the other talent (who have been in the company for ages and are probably stuck in purgatory there).
That didn’t happen in .PAAK’s case; hell, you could say the say thing in Datura’s case as well. Both parties were gusty in their comments and approaches―they both called their respective shots…
It just so happens that the better woman had her hand raised at the end of the night. But after her ferocity and resiliency, that shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, especially her opponent at Breakthrough Forty-Four.
/There’s a light chuckle/
Aye yes, it is now the moment Alex Kincaid has finally been waiting for. I’m sure you’ve been patiently biting your nails for the past few minutes, eagerly waiting to hear what type of malicious insults that I’ll hurl your way. Well fear not, good sir. I’m actually not going to fling contrived bullshit your way. No no no, that would be dreadful, wouldn’t it? The only thing I’m going to provide you with is one hundred percent, unadulterated truth (some the perspective of me and .PAAK, of course).
So, no more wasting time, let’s get to it!
/There’s a five second pause in speech/
Mr. Kincaid, I’ve got two questions to ask you. And please sir, I need you to pay particular attention to both. It would be a pity if you overlooked one and missed all the nitty gritty context.
The first one is this: what would you do to win?
Now yes, that seems like a basic, elementary question upon first glance. However, Mr. Kincaid, I want you to truly pounder that idea for a moment.
No matter how grimy a situation might be, no matter how much pain you’d have to go through, would you do anything to pick up the win?
Because, .PAAK would, and will.
If you watched my girl’s first match, then you should have picked up on a couple of things. For instance, she took a great deal of punishment. Aye yes, she received forty-four poor-man’s lariats from Datura. If .PAAK wasn’t a nine year veteran, if she was some soft, fragile creature, then maybe she would have folded and given up.
However, she did not.
Her drive is unmatched, her Fighting Spirit is unrivaled. And therefore, she got back up after each and every blow. Kincaid, I sincerely hope you were paying attention, because that’s what you will be facing in a couple of days. And yes, I’m sure thousands of opponents have told you that they “will never give up,” or that “they will never quit.” I’m sure it’s pretty cliche at this point, isn’t it?
Nevertheless, I’m mentioning it because it is a fact; and, I promised you facts, did I not? Kincaid, putting a simple beating on .PAAK is not going to earn you a victory. She is not Jonna Thade, she is not Patrick Jones―she is not even the World Visionary Champion...
She’s something far greater!
Kincaid, I’m not here to kiss your ass; but, there is no denying your skills. Facts are facts, no matter which way they cut. You’ve been on a roll as of late. You’ve racked up win after win after win. You’ve demolished the seemingly invincible Casanova English. Hell, if I were your manager, I’d be pushing for you to get a title shot.
But when you step into the ring with .PAAK in a few days, you’re going to facing a woman who is dissimilar to your past conquests.
Mr. Kincaid, let’s test those comprehension skills of yours. Two weeks ago, I talked about what makes an American wrestler different than a Japanese wrestler. Now, do you recall what that difference is?
/He pauses for moment/
Did I hear you say training? Yes, you were listening! This brings joy to my little heart.
Allow me to expound upon that point, just a bit. In Japan, men and women don’t train alongside each other; they aren’t even given the same classification. Women wrestlers are referred to as “Joshi.” Now, way back in the day, women weren’t equal to their male counterparts; this is no secret. They were trained in the same manner as men, but they didn’t receive a third of the respect as male wrestlers.
Therefore, most Joshi developed a bit of a complex. They began to overcompensate; they began to implement regiments even more strenuous than the males―all in hopes of being respected and accepted. The first two years of a Joshi’s career resemble a mixture of military basic training, and a continuous gang jump-in. No Kincaid, they don’t just run the ropes and practice flips―they get the shit beat out of them, day in and day out. The weaklings wash out and quit. The Joshi with enough willpower and determination are the ones who actually enter into the Business…
.PAAK is one of those women.
She doesn’t just endure pain, she absorbs it. She was bred through pain; it’s what she thrives on. That’s why no matter hard she tried, no matter how many thunderous shots she delivered, Datura just couldn’t put .PAAK away. The same thing is going to happen to you, Kincaid. You’re going to drop her on her neck, and she’s going to get right back up. You’re going to bash her with that forearm of yours, and she’s going beg you for another one. You’re going to lock on that anaconda vice, and .PAAK’s going to stare at you with uninterested eyes, wondering why you are trying to give her a cuddle in the middle of the match.
What are you willing to do to win, Kincaid?
If you want to defeat my client, you’re going to need to reach into the deepest, most angst-filled portion of your mind. You’re going to have to tap into those unmentionable depths that most are even willing to admit. To defeat .PAAK, you’re going to cripple her, you’re going to have to maim her―you’re going to have to kill her!
Do you have what it takes to do it? Hmm? Hmm!?
/There’s a few seconds of silence/
I did say that there would be a seconds question, didn’t I? Fortunately Kincaid, it relates to the first one. So, I’m going to ask it right now: what would you do to achieve greatness?
The basic laws of Business dictate that to achieve true success and greatness, one has to offer up some kind of risk. You see this all the time in the corporate world. In 2006, Disney wasn’t hurting for money; but, it was going through a lull. Things were, stagnant, so to speak. The powers that be made a spirited move and merged with Pixar. For those who aren’t too privy, mergers are risky ventures. First, the court must determine if said merger would violate antitrust statutes. Then you have to deal with media and any potential shit-storms. There’s also the possibility of public outcry, etc.
Simply put, an ill-timed merger could be debilitating. However, what happened in this particular instance?
We (the fans) got Cars, Wall-e, Up, among other amazing films. What did Disney & Pixar get? Their already hefty fan-base skyrocketed to the moon. And course, at the time, it seemed as if they had a printing press in the back room―aye, the dollars just kept flowing in.
Now Mr. Kincaid, if you think about it, the same risk-taking principle applies to professional wrestling as well. You could be the best pound-for-pound athlete, but if you don’t do something to stand out, if you don’t do something to turn heads, you’re going to get passed over and ignored.
Surely, you understand these sentiments; you are going through similar shit, aren’t you? You’ve been winning these matches, you’ve been pulling off these upsets. And yet, what do you have to show for it? Nothing―except for a couple of “atta boys” and some complementary pats on the back...oh, and that title opportunity that you squandered away. However, we won’t speak upon that; no to rub salt in the wound.
I’ll just say this, Mr. Kincaid―no risk, no reward.
/He laughs/
Do you need more proof? Very well, let’s look at an example. In fact Kincaid, let’s take look Casanova, since you two are well acquainted.
Mr. English has done very well for himself in VoW, has he not? At this very moment, a majority of fans would consider him the face of this company. However, there was a time when he was viewed as a mere mortal man, struggling and fighting to make his way up the ranks. He was chasing the seemingly invincible Valquist, trying to get his fingers on that illustrious title belt. English won’t tell you the truth; he’ll likely say to you that he always had things under control.
But, we know the truth, don’t we?
The truth is, Mr. English risked his career and reputation when he fought Valquist for the belt. The man talked a mighty big game leading up to the match. Had he lost during his title shot, great shame and disgrace would have been bestowed upon him.
But, he took a calculated risk, and it paid off.
So, you’re probably wondering how all of this relates to your upcoming match with .PAAK. It’s abundantly clear that I love to hear myself talk, however, my little tales all have specific purpose.
You see, .PAAK has given up everything in order to be great!
I’m going to share a secret with you all, one that’s she’s authorized me to share in this audio log. Kincaid, .PAAK doesn’t have a family; she hasn’t for most of her life. What did have growing up, is wrestling. From an early age, she has lived and breathed the sport. She’s dedicated her life to becoming the best wrestler that she can be. She doesn’t indulge in spirits, she doesn’t party it up, and she doesn’t hang-out with friends―.PAAK simply wrestles.
Her drive and will garnered her a lot of success in Japan. She worked for smaller, independent promotions, but the entire wrestling scene knew her name, and sung her praises. At the age of twenty-three, she is a mega-star over there―
And she’s risked everything, all her fame and fortune, to come here to America and fight YOU, Mr. Kincaid. You should feel oh so very special.
That young girl has picked up her entire career, her entire life, and brought it to a very foreign land; a place where its citizen’s best and brightest are so culturally insensitive that they can’t even be bothered to Google her fucking name. Do you know taxing that all is? Do you know the kind of courage that takes?
Where the hell are your risks, Alex? What exactly have you given up!?
Nothing!
/He pauses to compose himself/
Mr. Kincaid, .PAAK is stronger than you―period. No, she does not share your skyscraper like height, nor is she the size of a small boulder. However, mentally, shhh, she’s stronger than anyone here in VoW. She gave up a lot to become amazing in Japan, and she’s done it again to try and become even greater here in America.
She’s had every right to bitch and complain. And yet, she hasn’t. She’s had every right to shut things out and pack it in. And yet, she hasn’t!
That’s the woman you will be facing at Breakthrough Forty-Four, Kincaid! A woman who has defined this sport for nine years...no, a woman who has been professional wrestling for nine years! A woman who has already given up everything, so there’s literally nothing left for her to lose!
/He pauses for a second to breathe/
What will you risk to win to this match, Kincaid? What will you risk to become great?
Will you put your body on the line?
Will you offer up your wellbeing, your livelihood?
Will you unleash the necessary inner-beast needed to defeat .PAAK?
Kincaid, you are savage in the ring―a beast. A technically sound beast at that. And unlike Datura, it appears that your head is fully on your shoulders―that makes you exceptionally dangerous. But, as much as a savage as you are in the ring, as talented as you are in that ring―I don’t think you’ve got the balls to do what’s needed to win, to defeat .PAAK and truly become great―because if you did, you probably would be in this match. If you did, you would have already positioned yourself into the main event―just facts my dear lad!
But of course, if I’m off base, if mistaken―prove me wrong! Prove us wrong!
END
