I don't think you realize how boring it is counting goals and deliberately not doing anything. My instincts might take over and drive me to just start grabbing things.
When we're half drunk and our eyes are watering from ghost pepper beans and we slam into the stands because we both thought we saw the snitch but it turned out to just be some poor kid's watch, at least I'll know my eleventh hour expulsion was memorable.
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It'll only be readable when I'm seconds away from killing a freshman, but that's the only part of the game anyone wants to pay attention to anyways.