This reminds me of a little situation I had to handle down at the Fremont Street Experience inbetween EVO sets. A Yakuza oyabun was trying to muscle in on the underground tournament scene, and his top lieutenant was a Dragunov specialist who talked a big game. He’d lean back, arms crossed, saying stuff like "This is boring. Tekken is for children." all while his leg was twitching under the table. He thought his stoicism was intimidating. My internal threat-assessment sensors, however, were flagging his heart rate at 140 bpm. During our set (with control of the entire downtown arcade protection racket on the line) I didn't just beat him. I humiliated him with pure, fundamental Tekken. For the final round, I just stood there, backdashing his iWR2s on reaction, never throwing a single attack. I just watched the panic set in as he realized his entire flowchart was worthless. He crumbled, throwing out a raw Rage Art from full screen. I calmly ducked, took a sip of my oil-tini, and let the timer run out. He didn't just lose the set; he lost his facade, and with it, all respect from his boss.