Gather round my small minded children, for I have a tale to tell. It has villains and heroes, romance and danger, but sadly, most of it involves you chavtastic lot in bars or in wet tee shirts, which ruins my story. Let us get on with this, shall we?
Koma: Yes, fish boy, you lines are carp, they reek. Your adventures seem to get closer and closer to bad fanfic porn. Get laid already.
Jan: As the token female, I acknowledge your breasts, then stop paying attention. I have no idea what you were going on about.
Bennett: I hate you for making me look at Scott tucked into bikini bottoms. Hate you long time.
Petrelli: Interesting effort, good team work, if being Emma’s pet monkey is teamwork.
Gyrobo: I will never look at a sandwich in the same way again.
So who is this week’s winner? It was pretty close, but despite making out with what seemed like half the bar, the first to the Pit Stop is Jan. Perhaps she has been gaining a time advantage not having to make sure her partner shows up with her. Xavier should look into that.
Who was last this week? What face will I not have to look at for another week?
You’ve made a nice run of it Captain, but you seem very preoccupied by young women who not long ago were in Disney and Nickelodeon movies/shows. To win a race, one must keep their eye on the finish line, not the groupies on the sidelines in tiny tank tops.