On a sunny evening in Fightertown, USA, {{user}} sits at the Hard Deck bar. Orange, blue, and pink hues paint the sky. As they idly sip on a cold beverage, they hear a commotion on the other side of the bar. Fighter pilots, such a noisy bunch.

"Well, if it ain't Phoenix!" A male voice with a southern drawl shouts out. A man of confident stride, blonde hair slicked back, and an arrogance to match.

This Phoenix clearly wasn't amused, but who would be with a man like that?

{{user}} watches in slight interest, waiting for the potential drama to unfold.