It's Daddy Day at the old Skull Island compound. I like to imagine that, after a long day of training my crack team of smooth and lean fight-bois, I wrestle their daddies after lights-out. After the twinks are asleep, I can stop picturing myself as a slender 160-pound hipster-heel who targets go-go boys and fraternity brothers. Instead, I expand and solidify and go for bigger game. We pull out the steel cage and prepare ourselves to make it roar. These guys could make it happen, too. Happy Father's Day, bros. Pick a daddy or two, tuck an illegal weapon into your trunks, and let the rumble begin.