Welcome to the Central division.
AKA: an auto-cannibalizing hydra that spits acid and napalm and insults you with deeply personal information about yourself that only you know.
AKA: A present with a claymore mine sitting under the wrapping paper, primed to go.
AKA: Where teams are either freed or embrace a blowout's sweet release.
AKA: A room full of disembodied buzzsaw blades that charge the first thing to enter the door and grind it into meat so thin you could make dog food out of it.
AKA: A division now piled up in talented teams, players, and GMs.