Time's Up for FNHC's ToolTime; Gump On the Mend

By Iron Orr on 1/21/2010

Brownstown Twp, MI - This week's FNHC event got off to a disgusting start as the teams gathered in the locker rooms. "How gross!," exclaimed Frey as he nearly sat in a puddle of pee on the bench in the LiteSide locker room. "This place is nuthin' but a dump!" While Frey turned around and found another spot closer to the door to don his gear, the next guy in the door was Miller.

"What's with all the long faces, fellas? And what stinks in here?" said Miller as he strode straight to the back of the room toward the pee covered bench. "That's disgusting. Who did that?," he asked as the stench repelled him back from where he came. "This is an all-time low. This place is a dump, has been for a long time, but pee on the bench? That's just too much."

With that, Miller dropped his hockey bag and turned to relieve himself at the urinal. "Now I know why the guy peed on the bench. The urinal is gone. I'm gonna pee right here in the drain. F-'em."

"Hold on Miller!" Mo firmly interjected, "there's a bathroom right outside the door."

"No thanks Mo, this drain will work perfectly fine," replied the FNHC's top goon. "F-'em," he very eloquently added.

As the pee continued to evaporate ever-so-slowly and fill the air with the choking stench of drying pee, the LiteSide players held their noses and tip-toed around the greasy, grimy, trash-filled floor and put on their gear. Little did they know that this was only the beginning of a garbage-filled night at the Ice Box.

During the pregame skate, the DarkSide's leader ToolTime announced that this would be his last skate of the 2009-2010 FNHC season. "I've got shoulder surgery scheduled for next week, and the rehab will keep me out the rest of the year," he said. "But tonight, I'm going to give the LiteSide something to remember me by."

The teams continued their warm up and it quickly became clear that the teams were totally lopsided from the standpoint of skill players. On the Dark end of the ice were ToolTime, Batman, Domi, Mailman, Wolverine and La Package. On the Lite end were Vunderkindt and Pops. Domi saw the mismatch and volunteered to switch to the LiteSide. "Shhhh!," hushed the Commissioner, "these teams are looking pretty balanced to me. You just keep that Dark sweater on Domi."

And so, once again, the DarkSide was laden with hockey talent and skill and the LiteSide had none. Well, none other than Vunderkindt and Dano in net. It was going to be another long night of uncompetitive hockey for sure.

The puck dropped and, like a load of garbage sliding off a dump truck, the DarkSide avalanche began. Domi scored 7 seconds into the game. Then ToolTime. ToolTime again. Batman roofs one. Mailman five hole. Domi glove side. Domi blocker side. Batman left corner. ToolTime slapper. Mailman wrap-around and when Wolverine slid one in on a wide open net the game was over. And the first period wasn't. When the horn sounded to end the first, the score was DarkSide 22 LiteSide 2.

The LiteSide came out for the second period grouchier than Oscar the Grouch and smelling twice as bad from the stench of the locker room lingering on their gear. Three quick goals by the DarkSide and the LiteSide angst turned to surrender. "F-dis," said Miller, "dis is no fun."

Just then, Vunderkindt let go a wrister from the top of the circle. He lifted the puck into the air, hurtling waist high and hot toward the net. The puck grazed ToolTime's side as he attempted to block the puck, but it whizzed by with a trajectory precisely guided at Gump's unsuspecting balls. Down went Gump in a heap in front of the net.

Time was called and the FNHC medical staff rushed to Gump's side. Turns out, he was hit directly on the knee cap. The knee was exposed when he went down to stop the projectile puck.

30 minutes later, play resumed with Cutler in the DarkSide net and Gump on the bench. "Don't you think you should go to the hospital?," Iron Orr inquired. "Can't," replied Gump, Cutler's wearing my gear." Gross.

And so the night ended as it began. Garbage hockey on the ice, with a goalie wearing another's wet, stinky gear and a cess pool of a locker room to return to.