
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Cue dramatic thunder as industrial wreckage collapses Well butter my biscuit and call me scrap metal - Houston Finch just went from tag #29 to #3 faster than you can say "should've bet on the Crocs-wearing underdog!" sigh Yes folks, we're trapped in Week 1 of this post-apocalyptic fever dream where a man with the energy of a damp napkin just yeeted himself up the rankings like a mutant kangaroo on Red Bull.
Finch's -2.8 vs field would be impressive if I wasn't contractually obligated to describe it as "the molten SSD oracle's divine intervention." His score matched his personal average with the precision of a demolition expert who... oh wait checks notes that's literally his tag's backstory. How convenient.
Hydraulic hiss Let's address the 25-ton elephant in the room: 26 positions gained is statistically improbable, like finding drinkable water in the wasteland. But here we are, watching a man who probably still bags a Groove become the wasteland's third-best hope. The Rampage Colossus tag's fusion core hums approvingly as Finch's mediocre round gets the Mad Max treatment.
Remember kids: in Afterburn, even your laundry night conflicts can't save you from destiny. Or my sarcasm. System error: snark module overheating