Prepped for battle with a double shot of beetroot juice and an hour of bicep isolation. Saw a child wearing a dodgeball headband and told him to “stay hydrated or die.” Felt inspiring. Fran growled at me again. Still not sure if that means “hello” or “back off.”

Caught and crushed five thrown apples during team “fruit reflex drill.” White tried to high-five me. I growled. He backed off. Gym smelled of fear and vanilla protein powder. Victory is near. My moustache bristles with anticipation.

White handed out Cobra headbands. I tied mine so tight I blacked out for 11 seconds. Vision improved afterwards. Dreamt I dodged a wrench thrown by my childhood self. Woke up screaming “VICTORY.” Let’s make dodgeball history. Or at least a viral TikTok.

Held a team-wide mirror-flex session in the suite. Fran crushed a grapefruit with her thighs. Blazer got a nosebleed watching. Ate exactly 1.5 almonds for protein balance. Visualised crushing Average Joes under my boot. Bought matching snakeskin warmup suits. Vegas, prepare for pain.

Practiced throwing dodgeballs through moving car windows in the parking garage. Hit 9/10. Car owners not amused. White gave us a pep talk via Bluetooth while deep in a tanning booth. Man’s committed. I am the storm. And the storm has shoulder veins.

Hotel bed too soft. Replaced mattress with pile of sandbags from the loading dock. Did push-ups on fists until palms bled. Good day. Observed prey (Average Joes). Weak posture. No neck muscle density. They will fall. They always fall.

Landed in Vegas. First thought: not enough chrome. Hit the strip in my compression tank and combat boots. People stared. That’s respect. Scoped out the opposition. One of the Joes dropped a donut on their shoe. Tactical error.

First thing I did: hung up my lucky jockstrap. Second: bench-pressed Blade for time. Ate an entire rotisserie chicken with no cutlery. Fran watched and nodded once. Felt honoured. Vegas is hot. But I’m hotter.

Vegas, baby! Checked into the suite and immediately did a shirtless handstand on the minibar. Hit the hotel gym — maxed out the leg press, then flexed in the mirror until security asked me to “please stop intimidating other guests.” Wore sunglasses indoors all night. Felt right.

Arrived at the Bellagio. The concierge called me “sir” five times — that’s the respect alpha energy commands. Saw a man with a gluten-free doughnut. Laughed so hard I almost strained a lat. Reminder: do 1,000 crunches tonight and reread The 7 Habits of Highly Dominant People. Also, I caught a glimpse of LeFleur in the lobby. His shirt was wrinkled. Amateur.