I was gonna just send this as a message to Queen, who I will add, looked like a total fool last weekend, in front of the ENTIRE guild of archers and assorted family and friends who bothered to turn up for something as ridiculous as watching a bunch of us prance around in tights and get our Robin Hood on, but Hell, I'm willing to fork out a lot more cash to further antagonize him, for the benefit of it being done in front of a much larger group of people, so let's coordinate.
Archery's a thinking man's game, and clearly, Oliver Queen isn't thinking anymore, so we'll resort to brutal out and out aggressive tactics, sharp shooting, and general leadership ability in the field. Full out paintball war. Me and my superior marksmanship and him and his rapidly fading Olympic Glory.
From now until, oh, let's say Labor Day, when he doesn't have the excuse of being under someone's desk, and hopefully has not been gnawed to death by the current crop of crabs he's giving new life to as we speak, we'll recruit, we'll train, and we're going to create our armies.
No recruitment tactic is too cheap and low, cheating, blackmail and other coercion methods are allowed, and, in fact, encouraged, and we'll have the rest of summer to get everything moving.
Now, I doubt the corporate free love hippie has ever handled a gun that didn't give out electric shocks before, so let's give him a good ten minutes headstart onto his portion of the field and call it good, am I right?
Details to be finalized, once I make sure that I can even get the paintball field for that time, or moved around as needed, but there's the basics, guys, and Queen. Winner takes...I'm not sure yet.
You ready to accept my non gentlemanly, low down, total lacking in honor challenge, Queen? Consider this a formal declaration, will you?