"YOU GOT A WHAT?" Cassandra Dalton had to hold the receiver far from her ear as her father bellowed into his end.
"A tattoo?" Her response came out as more of a question than a statement, wincing at her tone. She could practically see her father's red face and trembling hand, and yet she heard him take a deep breath from the other end of the line.
"I'll let it slide this once because it's for your mom. But any more hooligans young lady and you are coming straight home, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes Dad. I've got to go for practice but it was really good talking to you. Bye, love you!" Cassie quickly put the phone down (she'd been using the one in the rink) and ran to the locker room where she saw a blue jersey at her space. She tugged it on and sat down to tie her skates before grabbing her stick and making her way to the ice.
What she didn't expect was to swiftly be tied up with the others in what felt like a rather large and impractical game of Sardines.
"This is more crowded than truckload of goats." Dwayne commented as he squirmed a bit to try and relieve the tension of the rope.
"Somebody better watch their hands." Julie remarked, giving a harsh glare to the boys behind her when some foul smell washed over the teenagers.
Rotten egg and death, to put it lightly.
"Oh I smell something." Someone gagged, one person covering their mouth with their glove and another lifting up their jersey so the material could act as a filter.
"Goldberg!" The group yelled together, the goalie in question looking rather offended.
"It wasn't me!" He defended himself, eyes going wide with innocence.
Dean Portman lifted his arms victoriously within marge smile on his face. "No, it was me!" Team USA groaned and some even tried to move away from the boy, seemingly forgetting about the rope and slipping a bit.
"I don't know how to make this any clearer." Bombay walked around the now disgusted team. "You are a team. And to win this thing, you have to work as one. Now as one, skate."
Naturally, everyone went their own way, a few trudging forward, some heading right, some heading left and Cassie was pretty sure Averman went backwards. Surely enough they all fell to the floor with a series of thuds and pained noises.
"Try again." Bombay had no sympathy for them, seeing that they were all individual when they needed to work together like a well oiled machine to be the best team they could be.
"All of you move to your right, now!" Dean ordered as soon as they were back on their feet.
"Who made you boss? Everyone to the left!" Fulton countered, emphasising his point with a jerk to the left.
"You guys can argue all you want." Coach told them all. "But I am not untying you until you move as one."
A few tries later they were trundling along (albeit slowly) but as one. Bombay lit up in a smile at the kids working together, happy his little evil plan worked out. "Right turn!" He slapped the back of Charlie in a matey gesture and, once satisfied, untied them all. They all diligently took and knee and looked up at their coach, awaiting further instruction.
"You guys are starting to look like hockey players. I'm proud of ya team. You worked hard today. But hockey should also be fun. Rancher Dwayne!"
"Yes sir." The Texan smiled cheekily at the older man.
"Round me up some stray cattle there." He handed Dwayne some rope tied like a lasso, the teens looked at each other once and all scrambled away with shouts of laughter.
