FDR arches a brow and glances down at the controller before looking back at the television. "Nah."

Sorry, B. But just having that face is competitive enough, he doesn't need to drag in anything else with it. And he has a dangerous competitive streak, a wild, overblown, streak where he doesn't stop until he wins, or the building is on fire, or he's hurt himself enough that he can't even move. Seriously. All of the above have happened before.