AAOOOSC!: The Mission

The atmosphere became more frigid as the scene began to settle. Toews found himself standing in the middle of a snow-covered land that seemed like a park in a small town; in the middle was a ice-covered lake, perfect for an outdoor hockey game. He crossed his arms, trying to reserve all of his heat since he wasn't wearing a jacket. He turned around and began walking backwards, gazing at the gray skies that were hovering over him. But he wasn't able to go far when his back hit something.

He turned around sharply, coming face to face with a menacingappearing guy with sharp facial features.

"Oh, ummm..." Toews walked backwards again in the opposite direction, feeling fear rise in him as the guy just stared at him with a deadly look. Toews then hit something with his back again; he turned around and realized it was another guy who looked different, but still had a menacing stare.

"Que fais-tu ici?" the guy growled at him, baring his teeth, which a few were missing. (What are you doing here?).

French? Oh...okay... "Je-je--" (I--I--).

"Qui es-tu?" The guy behind Toews shouted. (Who are you?)

Toews faced him with a scared look. "Je suis, je suis-- Mon nom est Jonathan Toews et je suis le capitaine des Blackhawks de Chicago!" (I am, I am, my name is Jonathan Toews and I am the captain of the Chicago Blackhawks!).

The two guys made a puzzled look, looking like they just smelled something bad.

"Des Blackhawks de Chicago?" Another guy, a shorter one, came in, facing Toews. "Quel type d'équipe est-ce?" (The Chicago Blackhawks? What type of team is that?).

"C'est une équipe de hockey!" Toews cried out. "Dans la LNH!" (It's a hockey team! In the NHL!).

"Il n'y a aucune équipe appelé 'Blackhawks de Chicago' dans la LNH," a voice told him from behind him. (There is no team called the 'Chicago Blackhawks' in the NHL).

"Oui, il y a!" Toews turned around, facing the guy who just talked. "Comment pouvez vous les gars disent que les Blackhawks n'existent pas?" (Yes, there is! How can you guys say that there is no such thing as the Blackhawks?).

"Parce qu'il y a seulement quatre équipes dans la LNH:" the guy to Toews's right started. "Les Canadiens de Montréal, l'Ottawa Sentators, les Wanderers de Montréal, et l'Arenas de Toronto." (Because there are only four teams in the NHL: the Montréal Canadians, the Ottawa Senators, the Montréal Wanderers, and the Toronto Arenas).

The guys to the left then said, "Maintenant sors d'ici, Blackhawk, parce que nous avons besoin de pratique pour nos jeux ce soir." (Now get out of here, Blackhawk, because we got a hockey game to practice for tonight).

"Attendez-vous!" Toews snapped. "Ce qui se passe encore?" Then he immediately felt a sharp pain erupt in his head. "AHHHH!!!" He collapses onto his knees, trying to fight off the pain that was growing in his head by placing his hands on his head. He was in such pain that he wasn't even aware what was going on around him. (Wait! What is going on?).

Finally after a few moments later, the pain simply went away. Toews stared at the white snow in confusion; he then heard someone clearing their throat from behind him. He turned around, seeing a main in a black suit and tie with a vest underneath his blazer looming over him; he had a friendly look with his short hair combed back.

"Ummm...," Toews started.

The man held out his hand towards him.

"Merci." Toews grabbed onto his hand and pulled himself up. "Où--" (Thank you. Where--).

"Oh, please, you don't have to talk in French," the man replied, waving his hand in the air, signalling Toews to stop talking.

"Oh, okay." Toews nodded his head. "Where am I?"

"You don't know where you're at?" The man had an accent one would hear when watching one of the first films with talking in it. "You are in Montréal."

"Montréal‽" Toews's eyes went wide. "But I was just in Ontario a moment ago--"

"Here, here, don't worry, I have a feeling what is happening." He held onto Toews's hand. "Let's go to my car and talk things out while we head to the NHL HQs, okay?"

Toews nodded his head without saying anything.

The man smiled. "Good." He brought Toews over to the edge of the snow-covered area, where a black, old-time-style car was parked on the side of the road.

The man letted Toews sit in the passenger's seat while the man took the driver's seat.

"This doesn't look like Montréal, though..." Toews voice faded off as he looked at the scenery rushing by his passenger's window. "It looks like I'm in one of my history books!"

"What year is it?" the man asked him.

Toews faced the side of the man. "2014!"

The man tilted his head to a side with raised eyebrows. "Wow, you are quite off, my son."

"Okay, so what year is it then" --A random year floated into Toew's mind-- "1918?!"

"You are actually right, we are in the year of nineteen-eighteen."

Toews eyes grow wide, jaw-slackened. "What?" He looked around his surroundings in haste. "Are you telling me that...?" He gazed at the man with eyes full of trepidation.

The man nodded his head. "Yes, you time-travelled."

Toews slapped his hands on his cheeks. "Ohhhhhh my gosh. I'm in the wrong part of time. I'M IN THE WRONG PART OF TIME!!! You have to get me out of here!!! My mother's not even born yet and I'm living before her! This is messed up--"

"Calm down, calm down," the man told the road. "You are actually doing the right thing. I knew that my right hand ruler of the NHL would go back in time to fix that chaos that's happening in his time."

Toews made a bewildered look. "What? 'Right hand ruler of the NHL'? 'Go back in time to fix what's happening in his time'? Look, I just wanted to save Patrick, okay, not to go back in time."
He leaned back in his seat with crossed arms. "Can you please take me back to my regular time because this is actually pretty frightening."

"There is no need to be frightened," the man replied tranquilly. "You are doing exactly what you are suppose to do...so far."

"Do you even know who I am?" Toews asked with narrowed eyes.

"No, I do not know, but I know that someone will time travel back into this time, and that would be the right hand ruler of the NHL, which is you: the one who has the powers of the NHL."

"Ohhhh noooo..." Toews slipped his face into his hands. "I'm even back in time and I am still bombarded with messages of me having powers!"

"Because you do have powers!" the man replied sternly. "You just need to control them, that's all. How did you think you timed travelled here?"

Toews shrugged. "I dunno, weird things were happening where I was at."

"Those were your powers. You just don't know because you don't want to know. You must not be stubborn and accept the fact that you have supernatural abilities."

"Well, they don't call me 'Captain Serious' for nothing," Toews muttered.

"Nicknames are just nicknames, but still, I am begging you, Captain Serious, that you must accept the fact that you have powers because you do. And what we are going to do later on requires you to use your powers."

"I'm sorry, but I won't do that." Toews looked at him. "And my name's Jonathan Toews."

"Alright then, Jonathan, I guess you'll have to be older than your mother then," the man says with a sigh.

"What? Are you telling me that you're gonna keep me here in this time?" Toews pointed to his shoes.

"Well, I mean, you don't want to use your powers and the only way to go back to your time is by your powers so...you're actually the one keeping yourself in this time."

Toews thought for a moment in deep thought. "Fine. Fine!" he threw his hands up in the air. "I'll do it, I'll use these powers I have." He slumps in his seat with a heavy sigh. "How did I even end up here?"

"With your powers," he remarked.

"That was a rhetorical question," Toews said in the same tone. "So who are...exactly?" He looked up at him.

"I am T.P. Gorman--you can call my Tommy for short."

"Alright..." Toews nodded his head. "So you're like a hockey player or...?"

"I am a lacrosse player."

"Nice... Just like John's uncle, right?"

The man made a confused look at the window in front of him. "John's uncle...?"

"Oh, nevermind." Toews threw his hand in the air.

"I also enjoy horseback riding," Tommy replied. "Goodness, I want to go back on my horse."

"If you don't play hockey, how do you know all this stuff about me?"

"Because I am also the founder of the NHL."

Silence quickly took over the conversation for a moment.

"Wait, you're--you're the founder of the NHL? You mean the one who made the NHL?" Toews eyes were wide.

"Yes, that is me." Tommy nodded his head.

"Wow. Now this is pretty cool. Do you know the Chicago Blackhawks?" Toews straightened up.

Tommy shook his head. "No...but that's a pretty cool team name. I should make a team up with that name when I get the chance to."

"You do it in the future...I believe," Toews told him. "But do you play hockey--?"

"No," Tommy replied sternly.

"No?"

"Nope."

"Yet you found the NHL?"

"Yes."

"Interesting."

"But I do play lacrosse--won the gold medal in the Olympics eight years ago."

"Nice." Toews nodded his head. "I just won the gold medal in the Olympics as well...in my time, though, of course."

"Yes, yes." He nodded his head. "So I must tell you what you are suppose to do."

"Save the NHL, right?" Toews did a bit of jazz hands.

"Yes, but there are some specific steps you must do to do that, but that is the overall goal," Tommy told him. "So, you're ready to listen?"

"Yes, talk away."

"Alright. So, in order to save the NHL, it'll be best if you stop the evil at its source. What I am saying is to prevent the EHP from even arising. You know what the EHP is, right?"

"Yeah, the evil guys."

"Okay. So, what I want you to do is to hide the Stanley Cup from the EHP. See, the Cup has all the powers to the NHL due to what it's made out of. Unfortunately, each player from each team found out about this and got the powers for themselves from the Cup and became their own little evil group who I named the EHP. So the event of them finding the Cup needs to be prevented and the only way to do that is to hide the Stanley Cup from them. Understand?"

"So I need to hide the Cup from the EHP?" Toews raised his eyebrows.

"From the players who are gonna become the EHP, yes."

"Okay..." Toews nodded his head.

"With that, you are going to travel back in time to last year when they go over to the Cup to hide it from them. HIDE it, don't destroy it or do anything like that, just hide it, okay?"

Toews nodded quickly. "That doesn't sound too bad; I'll do it."

"Good. Now when we arrive in the HQs, we'll start on it."

Notes