While Jamie was looking for Peter and Allen, who had surprisingly absented themselves from the rest of the participants in the tournament, he was stopped by a group of huge jocks.
He recognized one of them as one of the guys who had entered into the tournament. From the look on his face, it wasn't hard to figure out that he had lost. That wasn't Jamie's problem, by the end of the day there would be thirty others just like him. Not EVERYONE that plays can win, after all.
Jamie tried to sidestep the group of guys but he was cut off by another one. "Excuse me," he said calmly, not expecting it to do any good. He was right, as they pushed him back and cornered him. "What do you want?" This time, Jamie wasn't so patient.
"You're the one in charge of this little rat race, aren't you, Punk?" The lead jock spat. His buddies were eager for a fight.
"Well, I'm Jamie, if that's what you mean. What can I do for you?" He had been able to diffuse several situations in the past, there was no reason to think this one was any different.
"Well, I'll tell you what you can do, Punk. Get him!" And instantly, Jamie was surrounded and lifted off of his feet, being slammed into the wall. "Your little game will have to do without you."
"What do you mean? I can't leave! What's the problem?" Jamie wasn't very intimidated, but he was a little worried, since it was four on one.
"YOU'RE the problem!"