Granted; unfortunately it comes about by you winning the tournament and then strapping 200 pounds of C-4 to your chest and upon him congratulating you, you detonate the explosives and blow up Calypso, as well as a small chunk of the earth you loved so much. Oh yeah, and you die too.
I wish for a burrito so big that God couldn't eat it, and then I want to live to watch him try and eat the whole thing.
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