Page 3 of Ice, Ice… Maybe?

Theo spat on the ice, enunciating his thoughts – and Travis translated quickly before the puck hit the ice.

“He says, ‘Hello’…”

“No,” Theo corrected in very thick English, “I says ur a buncha sonsa …”

“He said you are ‘chippy’ players and look like you could take a beating.”

“Eh!”one man yelled out angrily, waving his stick. “Je sais ce que ton fou a dit…”

“Uh oh…”

“Fou? Fou? Ostie qu’il m’énerve!”

“Whoa boy…” Gerry grinned, looking at Travis as Theo started screaming at the man in front of him, puffing his chest up.

“Va ta faire a voire…”

“And here go the gloves…” Travis muttered under his breath. Sure enough, Theo looked at him, then at Gerry, and he nodded, sighing heavily. His buddy called it, and it was time for the team to deliver.

All three men flung off their gloves in solidarity, the six protective items flopping onto the ice in unison… as a roar erupted in the stands. The gloves were a clear signal it was game-on, and someone was about to get their rear-end beat – royally.

“Va ta faire a voire, toi et ta mère, je vais te faire t’étouffer avec tes dents,” Theo was screaming as they launched at each of the other players angrily, still yelling wildly, his body flailing over the other men who had no idea what to expect from the hot-tempered hockey player.

“I got that word,” Travis grunted, hitting the other player and landing a good one directly on his cheekbone that stung his knuckles.

“Not bad,” the guy grunted. “What’d he say?”

“Something about your boy’s mother – oh! And teeth…” he uttered, as the guy’s fist made contact with his jaw. “Dentsis teeth, of which I want to keep, dang it.”

“Ce naiiseux… les nouilles ne sont pas toútes dans la soupe!”

“He’s pissed.”

-punch-

“Very…”

-punch-

“Anyone ever tell you,”-punch-“that your face is like a wall?”

Travis landed another blow just as hands started to pull him away. Theo was raging, struggling to get back at the other man who hocked a mouthful of spit and blood directly at him, wincing as the string of words got even louder.

“Theo! Hey man…” Travis said, pulling his buddy toward the penalty box, where they had both been sent. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We both know he’s no good. Let’s just sit this ‘dime’ and we’ll be back in for another round.”

“Hey Giroux!”

“Yeah?”

“Did ya’ see the ‘Holly Hotpants’ in the stands wearing your jersey?”

“How do you think she got it?” Travis taunted, fully intending to say ‘hello’ again as soon as he got a chance. He’d seen her looking at him every chance she got, and the feeling was mutual. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, and the fact that they liked the same stuff did not go unnoticed.

“I’m gonna get her number…”

“Back off and leave her alone, hoser,” Travis growled protectively.

“Maybe she’d rather have a ‘liney’ than a center, eh?”

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