James Anderson's constant bullying ever since Phil had been assigned him six months ago had left Phil Thompson feeling exasperated and resentful. James' condescending behavior had pushed him to his limits, and Phil had decided that it was time to orchestrate a bit of karmic justice. The opportunity presented itself when he got wind of their assignment for the Derby.

With a devious plan in mind, Phil altered the call sheet to suggest that they would be covering the glamorous business village. James, blissfully unaware, strutted into the office that morning wearing an extravagant white 3-piece silk suit, cufflinks, tassel loafers...which would be "the works" for anyone else, for James? Saturday. So vain.

Unable to contain his glee nor resist the temptation, Phil uncharacteristically praised James' appearance.

"NICE SUIT, JAMES!!! New?!"

"First time wearing! Thanks, Old Sport!!" James, oblivious, beamed with pride.

In the news van on the way over, James remained oblivious to the impending twist. As he headed confidently toward the business village, Phil couldn't suppress a smirk. Everything was going according to plan.

It wasn't until they went to collect their press badges that James' realization hit him like a ton of bricks. The event coordinator looked at the altered call sheet and then back at James, confusion evident on his face in a raised eyebrow, "A little overdressed, aren't ya? Your assignment is to cover the infield."

James' face contorted with a mix of disbelief and irritation. "What do you mean? I'm supposed to be covering the business village."

Phil, who had played along so far, couldn't resist a wry smile. "Looks like there was a mix-up, James. Don't worry, you'll be fine."

For a moment, it seemed as though Phil's carefully orchestrated prank might not have the desired effect. Wooden planks had been positioned to provide the partygoers with a path, keeping them from sinking into the mud, notoriously tough to navigate each year at the infield's sunken center. James seemed relieved, his confidence returning as he navigated his way through the planks.

However, that moment of relief quickly gave way to a new challenge. At certain spots along the path, there was only room for one person to pass. It was at one such bottleneck that James found himself confronted by a rowdy partygoer, a man twice his size.

The partygoer, fueled by alcohol and much marijuana - ugh, James hated that smell now, ugh, how it was everywhere and how it lingered later and required a trip to the dry cleaner - crossed his arms, blocking James' path with a challenging grin. "Where do you think you're going, Fancy Pants?" he jeered, eyeing James' white suit with mock admiration.

James, his patience wearing thin, retorted with a huff, "I have important work to do. Do you even know who I am?"

The rowdy partygoer's grin only widened, his mockery evident. "Oh, I know exactly who you are," he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "YOU'RE THE GUY IN THE NICE WHITE SUIT WHO'S ABOUT TO TAKE A MUDBATH!!!"

At this, the crowd that had gathered burst into laughter, their amusement firmly on the side of the partygoer. James' frustration was palpable as he realized he was losing the battle of wits and public opinion.

Before James could protest further, the rowdy reveler's grin turned sinister. In a swift motion, he effortlessly lifted James up over his head, the white-suited reporter's arm and legs flailing in the air.

The crowd erupted in fresh laughter and cheers as his jacket's side vents flapped in the breeze, exposing his white-suited ass. The humiliation was palpable, and before James could react, he was tossed into a muddy puddle with a mighty splash.

The impact sent mud splattering in all directions, and James experienced a full-body face plant, his once-pristine suit now drenched and caked in mud. As he sputtered curses and scrambled to get back on his feet, one of his tassel loafers slipped off and sank into the muck, the ensuing imbalance causing James to take another embarrassing tumble, this time landing with a thud on his white suited ass.

Phil, capturing every humiliating turn of events on camera, could hardly contain his glee. The crowd's laughter and James' complete downfall were a sweet symphony to his ears. He knew that this footage would become legendary, a symbol of poetic justice and a stark reminder of James' arrogant ways.

As the scene went viral online, the world reveled in James Anderson's humiliation, immortalized in muddy splendor for all to see.

And for Phil, the once-disgruntled cameraman, the Derby became a turning point--a moment when the balance of power shifted: when James Anderson's arrogance was met with a muddy reckoning and Phil's career shot upward into a realm of success he'd never imagined.