The scoreboard told the story before anyone could catch their breath. Sarah and Wade: 11-8, 11-4. Laura and John: eliminated. Riverside Courts would never be the same.

Game one was merely the reconnaissance phase. Sarah and Wade probed the defenses. Found the weaknesses. Exploited every gap in their opponents' armor. Eleven to eight. The first strike was complete.

But game two? Game two was when Wade unleashed the weapon.

"I saw John standing there at the kitchen line," Wade recalled, his voice gravelly with the weight of what he'd done. "And I knew what had to be done."

The Nasty Nelson. One serve. One target. One man caught completely off guard. The ball rocketed through the air like a heat-seeking missile, locked onto John's position, and struck with surgical precision.

"I didn't even see it coming," John admitted later, still shaking his head. "One second I'm ready to return serve. The next second I'm the target."

Laura tried to mount a counteroffensive. She scrambled. She fought. She refused to surrender. But Sarah and Wade were relentless. Every shot placed with deadly accuracy. Every point a calculated strike against their opponents' morale.

"We all laughed about it," Sarah said, cracking a rare smile. "But make no mistake. We came to win."

The numbers don't lie. Eleven to four in game two. A dominant performance. A statement victory.

As the paddles were lowered and the combatants shook hands, one thing was crystal clear: Sarah and Wade had claimed Riverside Courts as their territory. Laura and John had fought valiantly, but on this day, against these warriors, there was only one possible outcome.

Total domination. Total victory. Two games. Two decisive wins.

The courts fell silent. The battle was over.