THIS IS IN RESPONSE TO PROMPT TWO, ALSO KNOWN AS THE SECOND PROMPT.

Rob Wright thuds down the entrance ramp toward a vacant wrestling ring surrounded by vacant expressions of wary ticket-buyers; wonderment over who this mysterious man is percolated in their hot, bowl-shaped minds. The man, clad in sparkling emerald green tights with thick, black blocky kneepads separating the shin from the thigh, clambers up like a no-thumbed monkey onto the apron of the ring. A microphone materializes in his hand as he deftly folds his entire body in half to fit between the ropes.

"66.6%" He says, then rests the microphone near his waist to let his "speech" resonate/marinate. "66.6% - that's the percentage of the SHL games that've been played this season. It's been fine. The Baltimore Platoon are doing just as expected - hot as a lost panda in a panda suit at a furry convention. Also, literally no injuries all season. Or ever. Why is no one talking about this? It's like we're gods. But we're not. We're not even real--"

Just then, Rob Wright realized he was in a game and his source code was deleted.