How AAOOOSC! Got Started!

"Do you know if the Senators are good, dude?" Patrick asked Antti as they walked the sidewalks of Ottawa.
They were in Canada's capital to battle against the Senators that night.
"No, I don't keep up with the standings," Antti tells Patrick.
"Oh, well, they sound like a weak team, man--we're gonna beat 'em, dude." Patrick placed his hand on Antti's shoulder. "Don't let in any goals, man."
"I can't promise you that. It's tricky being a goalie."
"Oh, you're a goalie?" someone behind them asked.
Antti and Patrick turned around with wide eyes.
There, now standing in front of them, was a man with short, black, spiked up hair, brown eyes, and some facial hair with a comely smile on his face.
"Ummm...yes, I am a goalie," Antti answered.
"Well, I am, too," the man replied.
"Oh, really, dude? For which team, man?" Patrick asked excitedly.
"The Ottawa Senators. And you guys are Blackhawks, if I'm not mistakening."
"Dude, we're gonna play against you tonight! And we're gonna beat you, man--"
"Patrick, that's not a nice to say," Antti told Patrick sternly.
"Sorry, dude, just got carried away, I guess, man." Patrick scratched his head.
"That's okay," the man told them. "But I should introduce myself." He held out his hand. "I am Brian Elliott, the goalie of the Senators, as you should already know."
"I'm Antti Niemi, goalie of the Chicago Blackhawks." Antti shook hands with Brian. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too." Brian let go of Antti and turned to Patrick. "And you are..."
"You should already know me, dude. I'm Patrick Kane, man."
Brain held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Patrick shook his hand. "Same here, dude."
"Well, since we're now together, shall we go out to lunch? My treat," Brian told them.
"Oh, but we're playing against each other tonight and that can be--"
"No, no, no, no, Antti, I won't do any bribery or anything. I would just like to talk about some things about you guys over lunch. Is that fine or are you guys busy?"
"Naw, we're just walkin' around, man, donin' nothin', dude. I'm up for lunch--" Patrick turned to Antti. "--are you, man?"
Antti shrugged. "If you're inviting us, then we'll accept it."
"Alright, great. I know a great sushi restaurant around here-- Follow me."

When they got their sushi rolls and began to dig in, Brian began to talk to them.
"So you guys are aware that you have powers, right?"
Antti swallowed his roll. "H-how do you know?"
"Ah, you'll see." Brian picked up a roll with his chopsticks. "Now tell me, what powers do you guys have?"
"Infizafilafee, fasf feefexes, fan fill fif fow fan farrow, foo," Patrick said with his mouth full.
"Swallow, please."
Patrick swallowed. "Invisiblity, fast reflexes, and skill with bow an' arrow, dude."
Brian ate his roll and looked down at his paper that he had out on the table. "Perfect, those are Blackhawk powers. Now--"
"Whaaa?" Patrick made an odd look, puzzled at what Brian just said.
"Antti, what are you powers?"
"Water powers." Antti raised his cup of water in the air and took a sip.
Brian looked at his paper again. "Okay..." He frowned at it. "As you guys should know, I also have powers."
"Which ones, man?" Patrick's eyes were full of awe.
"Teleportation...."
"Aw dude, that must stink having one power, man!" Patrick chuckled a bit, but stopped when he saw the look on Antti's and Brian's face.
"...and fast reflexes."
"Oh...."
"But I am also the Master of the Good Hockey Players' Soceity."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is that?" Antti asked in confusion.
"It's a group where all the hockey players that have powers and want to protect the NHL go to."
"So is there a bad whachamacallit society thing, then, dude?" Patrick asked, loading his plate with more sushi rolls.
"Yes, there is one: The Evil Hockey Players' Society. They are the ones with powers that want to take over the NHL."
"There's people that want to take over the NHL?" Antti made a shocked look.
"Well, not ones we know of right now, since the EHP is...dormant. No one--no one is working in it right now."
"Fo fa food fies far--"
"Patrick, don't talk with your mouth full," Antti orders Patrick sternly.
Patrick swallowed. "So the good guys are aroun' for nothing, man?"
"No, no, not for nothing because the EHP can rise into power again. Luckily it hasn't for almost five decades."
"Wow, that must be nice."
"Yup, it is."
"But why still have the good guys around, dude?"
"Just in case the bad guys rise to power again. Didn't I just told you that, Kane?" Brian asks.
Patrick thought for a moment. "Huh, that's right, man." He stuffed his mouth with more rolls.
"So what is the role of the Master?" Antti asked Brian.
"The Master looks over the society and makes sure that everything's in line, in place and that everything's under control. It's not a position anyone can earn. And yes, you have to earn it."
Antti nodded his head. "Are there anymore roles?"
"Mmmm..." Brian stared hard at his food in thought. He looked back up. "There is also the spy and that's it. The others are just sidekicks, helpers, the ones that fight."
"But the Master also fights, right?"
"Yea, yea, of course he also fights. He's the leader, the commander of the pack. Without him, the society would just fall."
"I see now. Who else is in the...good guys' society right now?"
"The GHP? Just me."
"Aw, why just you?"
"Like what I said, no trouble's been going around, so right now, it's not necessary to have a strong good guy team. But I want to make one up just in case someone revives the EHP." Brian took a bite of his roll.
"Oh." Antti gulped down the rest of his water. "So the Master is the highest level, then?"
"The highest level of the society? Mmmm... I'll say yes and no because it's the highest position us hockey players like you and I can achieve, but in reality, no it's not, because there's someone else who over looks the GHP and EHP. Wait, wait, wait, there's someone that overlooks the whole NHL, determining who has powers, who doesn't, so on and so forth."
"And who's that?"
"T.P. Gorman. You can call 'im Tommy for short--Tommy Gorman."
"What does the 'P' stand for, dude?" Patrick asked.
"It stands for 'Patrick,'" Brian replied.
"Cool, man, I can grow up to be like him." Patrick piled four rolls on his fork and stuffed them all in his mouth, with his tongue sticking out, helping fitting the food inside.
"Aren't you already grown up?" Antti asked him.
"Doesn't act like it, that's for sure." Brian threw Patrick a napkin. "Cover your mouth, we don't want to see your construction site."
Patrick swiped the napkin with narrowed eyes from the black table top and covered his mouth.
"So this Gorman guy practically is in charge of the NHL, like rules it; am I right?"
Brian nods his head. "You got that right. You know why?"
"Why what?"
"Why he got that position?"
"Oh, why?"
"Because he founded the NHL--"
"Duuuuuude! He's dead, man!!!" Patrick shouted at his phone.
"Wha? Where did you get that from?" Brian grabbed Patrick's phone and looked at it. Patrick had searched 'Tommy Gorman' on Google. "Don't listen to those facts--they're from Wikipedia." He handed Patrick's phone back to him.
"Hey...," Antti said under his breath.
"Anyways," Brian turned back to Antti, "it is true that Tommy foun--"
"But's he's born in 1886, dude!" Patrick cried. "Anyone born in the 1800s should be dead by now--"
"That is true, but Gorman still lives. Well, you can't touch 'im of anything, but you can surely see him and hear him--"
"How?"
Brian shrugged. "Something I still don't get to this day."
"But it says that he died in 1961, man."
"Yes, that's when he lost his physical body, but he is still alive! If you don't believe me, I'll show him to you."
"I'll love that, dude." Patrick turned off his phone and shoved it in his pocket. "Let's see a zombie--"
"Patrick, shut your mouth with food, 'kay? Without Gorman, you'll not be here." Brian raised his eyebrows.
"Sorry, sorry, man." Patrick ate some more rolls discretely.
"So, where's Gorman at?" Antti asked.
"He's at the NHL Headquarters here in Ottawa. You can see him anytime, anyday you'd like."
"Even in midnight?"
"Even in midnight. He's there at the HQs 24/7. He can't really go out, though or else people would see him and that'll be chaotic--"
"Because people'll think that it's the zombie apocalypse, dude!!!" Patrick began to laugh at his own joke, slamming his fist on the table multiple times. Antti and Brian just glared at him. "Sorry, man, sorry." Patrick wiped his eyes, chuckling. "Wow, that was just somethin', dude. Okay, okay, continue."
"I am gonna beat you tonight, wether you like it or not," Brian told Patrick.
"Nuh-uh, ain't gonna happen, man, ain't gonna happen."
Brian sighed. "The way he appears is something people are not used to at all, so he can't go anywhere."
"So how does he keep track of the NHL?" Antti asked.
"He has this huge computer that let's him make trades, including power trades, which is possible when you move to another team, and other things. He can add things, take away things--he is practically the king of the NHL kingdom."
"That's nice. So he lives forever?"
"Yup. Since the NHL's gonna be here forever."
"So we're not the only people with powers in the NHL, right?"
"That's right. Thirty people in total."
"And half are good and half are evil, right?"
"No, that's not the case. There are the good guys, the bad guys, then the guys that aren't either on a side, the neutral guys, which is the majority of the league."
"Oh...so anyone with powers can join a society then?"
"Yes, players who wish to try to take over the NHL join the EHP and the players who wish to protect the NHL from the EHP join the GHP. But if you join a society, that doesn't mean you have to stay in it forever. You can move out, join another one, your choice--you're completely free."
"That's nice."
"And when someone moves, Gorman takes note of it. So, without further ado, would you guys like to join the Good Hockey Players' Society?"
Antti looked at Patrick. "Patrick?"
Patrick nodded his head with his mouth stuffed. "Mm, hm, mm, hm!"
"I'll like to join."
"Alright, great. And Patrick, you're the spy."
Patrick swallowed with his blue eyes wide. "Really?!"
"Yup! So, to communicate with each other, since not everyone can teleport..." Brian looked at Patrick, who just stuffed another roll into his mouth. "...here are the intercoms." He handed two black, watch-like items, one to Antti and another to Patrick. "You can talk to anyone who has the intercom and track other people and so on and so forth. You can play around with it, but don't break it."
Antti wrapped his around his wrist. "Nice. Don't worry, we'll take care of it, right, Patrick?"
Patrick pushed on some buttons. "Whoa, dude, I can track my sisters!"
"That's not why I give 'em to you, Patrick--use 'em properly."
"Okay, man." Patrick wrapped his around his wrist. "Neat, dude."
"So any more questions?" Brian asked. "You can contact me or Gorman at anytime and I'll contact you guys if something important comes up, okay?"
"Alright, man, but do we have to take an oath or somethin', dude?" Patrick asked.
"Nope. We trust that you'll bring good to our society."
"Now that's some trust, man."
The waitress handed the bill over to Brian and he took a hundered dollar bill and gave it back to her. "Here's the money, keep the change," he told her. She left and he turned to his new sidekicks. "Okay, let us go." Brian got up with them and he threw a twenty dollar bill on the table. They walked out of the restaurant. "We shall depart now and meet up again tonight. Good luck on the game." Then Brian walked away.
That night, Senators beat the Blackhawks 4 to 1.

Notes