Somewhere in the stands, Desmond's coven is cheering him on with the sort of enthusiasm only middle-aged stage mothers can muster for their children at a soccer game. He's not entirely convinced they aren't having a joke at his expense (then again, having a joke at his expense and wanting him to win aren't necessarily mutually exclusive). In any case, he still isn't sure about what the hell he's supposed to do here, because as soon as he saw the names on the contestant board, he just about felt his stomach drop to his knees.

What kind of luck pits him against a ghost for the first round of something that's supposed to be for combat? Then again, it could be worse. His first round could have been against the bear.

So here he is, standing uncomfortably on the other side of the arena making eye contact with Cole (as much as that's possible, anyway, with one of them having a ghostly apparition of a hat jammed down over his head). This ... is going to be a weird match.