Nate86

Just going by metabolism, if I were wrestling crocs all day I’d probably get pretty hungry. Ali G might get high and eat a lot but I that’s more mental than physical and in the long run he might give out before Irwin’s actual need for carbs and protein.

If The Hulk gets his hands on Doom that could do it. That being said Doom has so many tricks up his sleeve he probably prepared for a hulk confrontation years ago.

No worries. It may just be my attempt to weigh the scales in Hawkeyes favor.

Hawkeye is actually a Korean war vet as well as Red. Neither he or Bartlet have much in common with Red but this one common thread might lend him a slight edge in using the Red route to break them up.

Thanks for the input. This is my first match so the feedback should help down the line.

Dr. Frasier Crane the eminent psychiatrist and previous host of his own radio show was flying back to Seattle from a conference on hypnosis dream therapy he had attended in New York. Setting up his new private practice in Seattle, and being a Freudian, Frasier had been intrigued in this new form of therapy. Each physician took turns being hypnotized into a deep sleep and guiding themselves in their dreams to resolve deep issues. Frasier was well versed in world history, fictional literature, and intellectual culture. As a result he had been able to navigate his dreams better than most others at the conference and left feeling very confident in his skills to help others navigate their dreams in therapy and resolve their issues. On the way back to Seattle there was a terrible blizzard that forced his plane to land in Ohio. Disgruntled, and tired, Frasier begrudgingly looked for a nearby 5 star hotel. To his dismay however all of the hotels had been completely booked up while his plane was still attempting to land. Finally he found an available Air Bnb located in a nearby suburb on Elm St. His cab arrived at the house late that night, around 1 AM. Frasier felt himself becoming more upset as he trudged through the thick snow up to the house and his suede shoes were being ruined from the snow. Looking to his right and left he realized the street was rather deserted. Most of the houses had “FOR SALE” signs that looked old and worn. He brushed snow off the lock box, entered the code, and quickly headed inside the house. Everything inside looked unused and forgotten, “It’s not The Ritz but I suppose it will do.” He trudged up the stairs and laid down on the bed. Exhausted and still angry from the days events he decided to do some dream therapy and sleep with a better mood. His eyes opened on The Parthenon, a favored relic of history that always lifted his spirits. The long pillars and endless view lifted his spirits immensely. He gazed upon the people of past ages, wondering what they thought of civilization then and how it would change in the coming years. Turning one of the pillars he felt a chill and darkness fell upon him. He walked forward and peered at a flickering light hovering over a hospital bed. Dingy and dark he approached with caution and suddenly he recognized the bed. It was the last time he’d seen his mother before cancer snatched her from his life. “M-mom?” He asked as he stepped towards her, still keeping in mind that he was dreaming. Her beautiful hair cascaded down her shoulders and onto her bed, her head turned the other way. “Nobody’s visited me in a long time.” Her head shifted towards him, except it was her face. It has burn marks all over and upon closer inspection it was somebody else entirely. A man? Yes. A mans face, burnt and disfigured under his moms beautiful hair. He continued. “I got selfish. Took too many lives. People left. They didn’t understand it, but people flee what they fear. Nobody stands and fights, which I suppose is what I was counting on ironically enough.” The burnt man chuckled and lifted a hand from the side of the bed, it was gloves and bladed. Frasier concentrated and tried to remove him but he couldn’t. “I’ve been getting eaten up from the loneliness. You’re not really my type but... when in Rome.” He leapt from the bed and Frasier ran. He found himself at his fathers funeral and looked around. The minister was speaking but Frasier wasn’t listening as he searched for the burnt face in the crowd. Suddenly he felt every face turn to him and they were all the same burnt face. Surrounding him. He was jumped from all sides, bladed gloves clawing at him from all angles. He concentrated in the split second he had and found himself in the library at Harvard, his alma mater. Here he had read about Odysseus, Horacio Hornblower, Captain Ahab, and many more characters who mustered up their courage in moments of deep despair. A figure approached him, walking down the aisle of the large library in a striped sweater and worn hat, a sick grin on his face. Frasier turned to him. With all of his courage mustered he wouldn’t go down so easy. He’d stand and fight.