And just like that, it’s all fine. The team helps Ingrid, Law, and Wes up. Law rolls his eyes at me. Wes shakes his head but grins. Ingrid rubs her ass, then grins and skates off.
And somehow, we make it through the second period.
I fuckinghatethe wiffle ball thing. Obviously.
But finally it’s over.
Between the second and third, Nora spends more time on the ice with her mic, talking to the fans.
Then the mascots show up.
Rougie the Rougarou and Rascal the Otter weren’t there at the start.
It’s just a damned scrimmage.
But clearly between the start and now, Nora, or Nora and Astrid, or maybe just Astrid…no, Nora was definitely involved…decided the mascots needed to be here, so they’ve skated, done a dance of their own, and are now up in the stands with the fans.
And they’re pulling options out of a hat for the third period.
Literally.
Nora has a gigantic fedora , and she’s apparently got picks for things like what the final three minutes—threeminutes? Good lord all this extra shit is already making every period take twice as long—of the game will look like, what the goalies have to do, how the mascots will be involved—kill me now—and what the losers of the game will do at the end.
Options include something with the Zamboni that I didn’t fully understand (because I wasn’t paying attention), serenading the audience, and something else with the mascots that I didn’t catch.
I’m far more focused on the fact that we have a cool app to use for voting, but we’re pulling stuff out of a hat, the scoreboard isn’t working, and no one seems to know what exactly the scoreis, and that I can’t believe I didn’t hit one fucking wiffle ball into the goal.
The third period starts, whether I want it to or not, and I pray for ten minutes of straightforward hockey.
I don’t get it.
But it’s not because of a random dance number, too many points, or a bad call.
It’s because all of a sudden Lawson and Beckett are brawling on our end of the ice.
What thefuck?
By the time I get to them, Lawson has Beckett pinned against the glass and his face pressed against Beckett’s.
“Knock it off, Moore!” Lawson yells. “I’m not putting up with this shit!”
Beckett shoves against him, but Lawson has a few pounds on him and doesn’t move much.
“Get off me, asshole!” Beckett swings his arm, smacking it against the side of Lawson’s helmet.
“Stop being a cocky little shit!”
“Stop acting like you’re better than everyone!”
“Take something seriously for one fucking minute!” Lawson lets up and then slams Beckett into the wall again.
“Why can’t youevernot be a prick?” Beckett fumes, shoving Lawson back.
“Okay,enough!” I bellow, pulling Lawson off of Beckett.
All four refs are around us, along with our entire team. Wes grabs Lawson when he tries to go for Beckett again, and Teddy and Ingrid both move in front of Beckett to keep him back.
“What the fuck is going on?” I demand, a hand on each of their chests.
