AAOOOSC! United

"You've Already Failed As An NHL Ruler."

The afterparty is merry and jolly with power players from all NHL teams new and old conversing with one another while munching on hor d'oeuvres and sipping on refreshments.

In the back of the room, next to the Stanley Cup, some of the GHP members are huddled around with the current NHL ruler.

"Did you say hi to Crusty?" Sidney Crosby asks in his high-pitched, infantile voice. He has a large smile, hugging Bubby, his massive stuffed gorilla, in his arms. He has a short stature with thick, wavy brown hair and squinty brown eyes; he is wearing a black suit and tie.

"No, I will not say hi to a horse in a three-piece suit," Jonathan Quick replies sharply in a dry tone. He has brown eyes, stubble lining his jaw and cheeks, and his brown hair spiked up, showing off his large, squared ears. His attire consists of an eggplant-coloured dress shirt, a black and silver striped tie, and a black blazer, dress pants, and suit.

The others turn to peer across the room, instantly noticing the golden destrier in the suit. Next to him is Reid, who is happily speaking with Nathan MacKinnon and Pekka Rinne, the other members of the GHP.

"I have to admit," Patrick Kane speaks up in his deep, relaxed voice, "it's pretty gnarly." He has dirty blond, wavy hair, calm, blue eyes, and a smirk etched on his face. He is wearing a navy blue suit with black lapels over a white dress shirt and a black bow tie, including black dress pants, belt, and shoes. He then turns to Toews with a smirk. "Right, Tazer?"

Jonathan is standing next to him, peering ahead in a daze. His hands are occupied with a glass cup as he mindlessly taps on its side.

Patrick furrows his eyebrows, craning his head to make eye contact with him. "Tazer?"

"Smalls!" John Tavares barks from his other side in his sophisticated-accented tone. He has his brown hair combed nicely with soft hazelnut-coloured, round eyes under his thick eyebrows, and stubble dotting the lower half of his face. He is dressed in a dark grey suit and a silver tie, holding a glass cup himself.

Toews immediately jolts, snapping from his trance. He whirls to face his two closest friends with shifty, wide eyes. "Wha-wha-what?"

"Are you okay, man?" Patrick asks with a slight gawk. "You don't seem rad. You seemed worried."

"He's worried all the time," Jonathan remarks, his arms crossed.

Sidney holds up his stuffed animal to him. "Maybe Bubby can help you feel better."

Toews peers down at the small skater. He lets out a light chuckle. "Thanks, Sid..." He pushes the massive stuffed animal away from him. "It's just that...something IS bothering me." He takes a nervous gulp from his glass.

"What's perturbing you, kid?" John asks with a gentle inquiring expression.

As a response, Toews flicks his eyes ahead of him, landing them on whom he was staring at. The others follow his motions, immediately spotting whom he has his attention on.

On the other side of the room, Connor is excitedly conversing with Patrik Laine, the power player of the Winnipeg Jets, and Leon Draisaitl, the power player of the Edmonton Oilers. The two skaters do not appear as half as amused as the captain himself, giving him slow nods with uneasy eyes.

"What wrong about Laine?" Sidney asks with a skeptical expression on the three skaters.

Toews whirls to face them. "No, not Laine— McDavid!"

Sidney peers up at him. "What's wrong with Connor?"

"Didn't you hear his speech?" Toews darts his eyes sharply at the other four men.