I may not know a winner when I see one, but I sure as hell can spot a loser.
My father never made it out of the fourth grade. He knew people. But he didn't know his ass from his elbow. You know what he was? He was a faith healer. I used to travel the circut with him. I was the one he healed. I was the shill, to set the crowd up. "Walk, my boy. When I lay my hands on you, you will walk." You will walk. Sodden old bastard. He thought it was him they believed in, but it was me.
Here they are again, folks! These wonderful, wonderful kids! Still struggling! Still hoping! As the clock of fate ticks away, the dance of destiny continues! The marathon goes on, and on, and on! HOW LONG CAN THEY LAST!