Chapter 32
by 
schooltombstone
The winner is...
You, John
... JOHN!"
Fist pumping, clapping, chanting, you soak it all in. Tiffany is displeased, to say the least. Cross legged, head-on-hand, grouchy & sour. It's the most down trodden you've ever seen an opponent, probably because it's so unlike her bubbly self. At this very moment, that is all a distant second thought.