I am responding to prompt one:

A word to the wise:  only total psychos care about “legacy.”  You know who cared about legacy?  Maximus Decimus Meridius.  “What we do in life echoes in eternity” - I’m sure you’ve heard that doozy.  Where did this obsession with legacy lead our dear friend Maximus?  Six feet under, killed by a pale weirdo who would later become the Joker.  Have I just butchered the plot to an Oscar winning film?  Yup.  But I digress.

It goes without saying that I would decline the European gentleman’s offer.  Fanta is overrated, after all.  Miles O’Brien only cares about doing what is best for the team - nothing more, nothing less.  Fixating on legacy has led many an athlete astray, prompting them to:  use performance enhancing drugs, loading their gloves, stealing signs, and deflating footballs.  Miles cannot abide such underhanded tactics, and being gifted an unearned hall of fame legacy seems about as low as you can go.  How do I get this man to leave?  I tell him to “make a like a tree and get out of here.”