AAOOOSC! Universe!

Pittsburgh is the location of the good guys' headquarters. Inside the headquarters is a huge room, which is the main room of the building; it has a massive table with chairs surrounding it. The wall across from the entrance has a enormous computer screen with a desk top filled with buttons and switches and coloured light bulbs protruding out from it.

All the good guys are sitting around the table; on the table are boxes of pizza from Papa Crosby's, ice cream tubs from the ice cream parlour shop, and baskets of cookies, German cookies, that Thomas baked.

Sitting at the end of the table is Jonathan Toews, ruler of the NHL. He is wearing a black attire with his royal red robe, one fit for a king. Next to him, on the side of the table is Sidney Crosby, then Patrick Kane, then John Tavares. Sitting next to John are the NFL players: Tom Brady, Jay Cutler, and Tony Romo. On the other side of the table, closest to Toews is Chris Davis, Buster Posey, and then Bryce Harper. Next to Buster is Thomas Müller, Guillermo Ochoa, and Tim Howard.

"Alright...," Toews starts with uncertainty in his voice. He sees that everyone is busy munching on the food and conversing with each other. "We gotta talk about some stuff... Important stuff..." He purses his lips while sighing loudly, getting frustrated that no one was listening to him. Then he gets an idea:

"ASCOLTAMI!" Toews shouts as he stands up halfway, slamming his hands flat on the table's surface. (LISTEN TO ME!)

Everyone stops eating and slowly turns their heads to face the ruler with shocked expressions.

"Wow!" Toews chuckles a bit with a growing smile on his face. "I didn't know everyone here knew Spanish!"

"You orated in Italian, not in Spanish," John tells him matter-of-factly.

"Your mom orated in Italian," Brady mutters to himself as he takes a bite of pizza; he makes an odd look. "Whatever that means!"

Toews throws his hands in the air. "Ah, same difference!" He then sits back down in his chair.

"Es una gran diferencia," Guillermo tells him while nodding his head up and down slowly. (It is a big difference.)

Toews lets out a huff with a frown. "I think I'm gonna have to study up on my languages. Anyways--" He fully faces his audience. "--now that I have grabbed your guys's attention, we must go over some things regarding the function of this group."

John smiles massively at how his apprentice is speaking.

Brady just eyes the Islander weirdly and takes a bite of pizza.

"So first off," the ruler continues on, "we must appoint a leader for this group."

"But aren't you the leader already?" Sidney asks, extending his hand toward him.

"Not that type of leader. We need a person who will look over the group during battle. I am like the messenger, reporting to Gorman how things are going, and he tells them to the League Leaders; yet I am also a source of help with my powers." He pauses for a moment. He then props his elbows on the table and extends his arms out, letting the palms of his hands face the ceiling; he makes an uncertain look. "Do you guys get it?"

The team members just stare blankly at the ruler.

Tony takes a bite out from his pizza and exclaims, "Mmmmmm-- yum yum!"

Toews groans and grabs his hair tightly. "Okay, we need a leader other than me."

The group lets of a chorus of 'ohhhhh's!' with nods.

"Whew!" The ruler drops his hands onto the table. "To do this, we're gonna vote to make things fair. Who do you think should be leader, counting me out?"

"Your mom should be leader!" Brady exclaims cockily.

Toews shoots the Patriot an unamused look. "No. My mom's not here."

"Well, I think I should be leader," Sidney starts, "because I'm the captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins and Team Canada!" He plops Bubby and Bubby Jr. on the table. "Even Bubby and Bubby Jr. agrees!"

John leans forward and darts his eyes to the Penguin. "Well, you should cognize, I as well am the captain of the New York Islanders."

"Well, I'm captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins and Team Canada for the 2010 and 2014 Olympics and won gold in both! Anyways, Bubby and Bubby Jr. only want me as leader!" Sidney sticks out the stuffed gorillas farther toward the Islander, accidentally making them go into Patrick's plate of pizza.

"Duuuude!" Patrick exclaims. "That's not radical, man, get your stuffed animals off from my pizza!" He shoves the gorillas off from his plate and picks up to the slice to continue eating.

Sidney examines his stuffed gorillas with a frown, seeing that tomato sauce got onto their black fur. "Awwww! Bubby! Bubby Jr.! Watch where you're going! Now I have to take you guys a bath!"

Brady begins to to speak: "Your mo--"

Jay cuts him off by shoving a German cookie in his mouth.

"Yum yum?" Tony asks him with hopeful eyes.

Brady snaps his eyes down at him with a frown, muffling out something that is most likely a 'Your mom' joke.

"Guys!" Toews shouts, attempting to grab their attention again. "Do you want me to shout in Italian again?!"

Chris nods his head while chewing on either tobacco or pizza or both. "Yeah, that was actually great when I saw that it messed up Bryce's hair!" He points behind his shoulder to Bryce, who is furiously fixing his hair with a comb while looking at a propped-up mirror.

"That--was not--funny--!" The National snapped between gritted teeth, not breaking his stare from the mirror.

"Your mom's not--"

Jay immediately holds onto the top of Brady's chair and with one snappy motion, he pulls the chair downward, making the chair and the Patriot collapse out of view and the sound of the chair smacking onto the ground could be heard.

"Ugh..." Toews slides his hands over his face. "This is a mess...!"

Thomas walks over to the stressed ruler and holds him out a basket of cookies. "Deutsche cookies?"

Toews removes his hands from his face and tiredly looks down at the cookies. "Ja, ik begrijp niet waarom niet." He takes one. "Bedankt." He bites into it. (Yes, I don't see why not. Thank you.)

The German eyes the Canadian weirdly.

Toews gives him the same look. "Wat? Ik spreek Duits. Wat is er aan de hand?" (What? I'm speaking German. What's wrong?)

"Sie sprechen nicht Deutsch," Thomas tells him with a disgusted expression. "Sie sprechen Niederländisch." (You're not speaking German. You're speaking Dutch.) He then walks away, back to his seat.

Toews lets out a groan and buries his head in his arms.

"Who thinks I should be leader?!" Sidney shouts as he stands on his chair, extending his hands outward.

"You carry stuff animals around and sound like a little kid," Jay tells him with a grumpy look, holding down Brady with his foot.

"Just because he carries stuffed animals around and talks like a little kid doesn't mean he can't be leader," Bryce tells Jay while looking in the mirror. "He is the captain of the Penguins."

The Bear scoffs while rolling his eyes.

"You know what?!" Sidney continues talking supremely. "We'll make this fair and square: the one to make the group name for the team will become leader of the group! And everyone MUST like the name!"

He sits back down and adds in quietly, "And I already have a name!"

"I think it should be called 'Giants!'" Buster says, moving his hands out in a showy-fashion.

"That's the name of your team!" Chris points out. "No!"

"Hey, it could be worse--" Buster slides closer to Chris: "--the Yankees...!"

"NO! NO NO NO NO NO NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNO!!!" The Oriole slams his fists on the table in rhythm to his ranting.

"Stop! Moving! The! Table!" Bryce snaps, trying to keep still his mirror while his hair is flopping over his face.

"This atmosphere is so tumultuous, I can't ruminate accurately!" John groans while having his head in his propped up hands.

"Okay!" Sidney shouts, standing on the chair again. "Does anyone have a name?!"

"The team that has the goalie who can save anything!" Tim shouts, pointing his finger into the air.

The room falls silent, letting the soccer goalie know that they disapprove that name.

"Anyone else?" the Penguin asks with raised eyebrows.

"The Schoops! In honour of my teammate, Jonathan Schoop!" Chris says, rocking back and forth in his chair.

"No," Jay says, shaking his head.

Chris thinks of another name on the spot. "The Jones's! In honour of my other teammate, Adam Jones!"

"Anyone else?" Sidney asks, ignoring the Oriole's failed attempted in making up a group name.
Silence takes over the room.

"Okay, I have one--" Sidney clears his throat. "The Pro 12! Shortened version of The Professional Twelve! 'Cause there's twelve of us, not including Tazer, if I counted right, and we are all professional athletes!" He smiles hugely while clasping his hands behind his back.

"That is actually...a good group name," Chris points out.

"Radical, man!" Patrick says.

"Posit or not, but I do regard highly of that title," John tells him.

"Is that good or not?" Sidney asks him.

John looks up at the Penguin. "Obtain it as a compliment."

"Okay!" He shrugs, still not sure whether it was good or not. He looks back at the group. "Does anyone NOT like it?"

Everyone shakes their heads while saying 'No's.'

"Good!" Sidney exclaims. "So that means that our group is called The Pro 12! Aaaaand, you also know what that means!"

Everyone lets out a chorus of groans and 'oh no's.'

"I'm the leader!" He pressed his hands against his chest. "Thank you guys for choosing Sidney Crosby as the leader of the Pro 12!" He slides back down into his seat and scoops Bubby and Bubby Jr. off from the table top and into his arms.

"Okay, okay, okay," Toews croaks out while straightening up. "We still need to vote for leader of the group."

"Don't worry, Tazer--" Sidney pats his shoulder. "--I already did all that! They chose me as leader and I picked out the group name!"

The ruler gazes at the Penguin with a surprised look. "Really?"

"Mm-hm!" Sidney nods his head with his mouth closed.

Toews looks out to see The Pro 12 all cooperating, eating and talking to each other in a civilized manner; well, except for Jay, he is still making Brady have a hard time getting back up.

Toews turns back to Sidney. "Wow, thanks, Sid! You are a great leader!"

"Why else would I be captain of the Pens?"

"Well, I see why now...they selected you as captain..." Toews chuckles nervously while adjusting the clip that held his robe around his neck. He then looks out at the group. "Should we go train now?"

Notes