Out Of The Shallows

Del Monte
2 days ago
2 min read

The Wildcard floaters must first claw their way out of the shallows.

🔥	Keith (5)
📈	n/a⬆️ n/a⬇️
🐍	Boner (5)

Wildcard Weekend

Before anyone earns the privilege of splashing around in the deep end with the Sqwid, the Wildcard floaters must first claw their way out of the shallows. And Sqwid knows better than anyone that even at low tide things can turn violent. Depth is irrelevant; pressure finds you at any level.

Big Tony Fish, that trembling pilgrim of delusional optimism, oozed into the Playoffs by the scaliest margin imaginable—basically belly-flopping across the finish line. Yet fate, clearly overserved, hands him a microscopic shot at another El Clásico with Bo. The kinder option might be to just swallow his own hook now and skip the humiliation altogether.

The White Wolf is operating on a different bandwidth entirely. Five straight wins have him brushing up against destiny. He’s facing his brother-in-law yet again—third meeting in four Playoffs—because the DelFL apparently moonlights as a laboratory for family psychological warfare.

And Jesse? Jesse treats the postseason like a one-man theater company. The cosmos hands him high-stakes scripts, and he performs them with relish. He’s thrilled the Fish blundered into his pool; with those long arms, he knows this won’t be a matchup so much as another controlled demolition, Tits-before-Bunnathon style. Some games are competitions—Jesse intends to mount this Fish and make him sing for his kids.

And the Commissioner—still chasing his four-star fantasy. Meanwhile seventeen owners would happily stage a coup d’état rather than sit through that coronation.

So let the games begin. The water’s already rippling—not with fear, but with anticipation. Because in the DelFL, glory and humiliation come as a package deal, and no one, no matter how buoyant they pretend to be, floats forever.

WeChat of the Week