In Pittsburgh, Marc-André Fleury is at his house, watching the 2014 NHL Draft on TV when Iceburgh comes lumbering along. The mascot sits next to the goalie and pats his shoulder, grabbing his attention.

Fleury shakes his head quickly and looks up at the penguin. “What’s up, Iceburgh?” he asks.
Iceburgh makes some slow hand motions with wide eyes, like as if he was conjuring magical powers.

The goalie shoots him an odd look with a frown. “No, you couldn't have found that! Time machines don’t exist!”

The mascot does some rapid hand motions.

“I don’t believe you…!” Fleury scoots himself away from the mascot, facing his back on him. He crosses his arms and throws his head back with a haughty look and a “Hmp!”

Iceburgh shakes his head, then gets up and walks away.

The goalie looks behind his shoulder, seeing the mascot climbing up the staircase. “Where you’re going now?”

Iceburgh disappears into the hallway once he completes walking the stairs.

“Hm.” Fleury turns back to the TV and continues watching the draft. There is a break and the commentators are commenting on the upcoming All-Star Game in 2015, the first All-Star Game in the past three years!

“The All-Star Games are gonna be in Columbus, eh?” He scratches his goatee with
inquisitiveness. “I wonder where they’re gonna be held in 2016… Ooo…!” He narrows his eyes while grinning. He then senses Iceburgh sitting next to him, so he gazes up at the mascot. “Alright, Iceburgh, now what?”

Iceburgh simply holds up a silver object that looks like a gun with lots of colourful wiring with its loops sticking out from it.

Fleury’s eyes fly open with a frightened look. “Gah! Iceburgh, whatcha doing with a--?”

Iceburgh waves his hands in the air with precise motions.

“Oh…” He leans back, relaxing. “So that’s the time-travelling thing you found.”

The mascot nods his head and asks Fleury a question through his motions.

“Are you sure that thing works as a time-traveller...?” The goalie cocks an eyebrow with uncertainty.

To prove that the object is in fact a time-travelling device, Iceburgh points it at a cloth bag that is on the floor, on the other side of the living room and pulls the trigger. A streak of yellow energy emits from it and zaps it out from sight.

Fleury makes a shocked look at where the bag was once located. “Oh, wow!” He turns to the mascot. “It does work!”

Iceburgh nods his head sternly, then does some few motions.

“Well, in that case…” The goalie looks up in deep-thought. “I would like to see where the 2016 All-Star Game’s gonna be held!”

Iceburgh nods his head and points the time-travelling gun at Fleury. He then pulls the trigger and a zap of yellow energy is emitted, striking him. Once on contact, the goalie disappears.
Iceburgh then zaps himself forward into the future!

---

In the future, there is something big going on in Nashville: the 2016 All-Star Game! Right now, the meet-and-greets are going on. Each team has their own separate place, so all the Predators participating in the All-Star Game are sitting behind a table, talking to fans and signing merchandise.

“OMG thank you so much for signing my jersey!” a fan cries out, almost on the brink of bursting into happy tears.

Pekka keeps a smile on his face while handing the signed yellow Predators jersey to her. “No problem! Have a nice day!”

The fan takes the jersey and clutches it against her chest, internally screaming. She has a massive grin pasted on her blushing face as she shuffles away.

Pekka tests his Sharpie marker on a scrap piece of paper, realizing that it had ran out of ink. “Ugh…” He turns to James Neal, who is sitting next to him. “Hey, Neal, can you pass me a Sharpie marker?”

“Sure thing.” James hands him a new Sharpie marker.

“Thank you.” Pekka uncaps the marker and grabs the jersey that is held out to him. He lays it on the table with its back facing up; he reads the back of the jersey: Hutton...30…? He makes a puzzled look as he gradually looks up to see who is the owner of the jersey.

There standing on the other side of the table is Carter Hutton, the backup goalie of the Predators. He has a huge smile his face with wide eyes, since he always his wide eyes.

Pekka makes a flat expression. “Carter? What are you doing here?”

“I’m your number one fan!” the backup goalie exclaims, throwing his hands into the air.

“But this is only for the fans, you’re part of the team!” the first-string goalie explains. “How did you get here anyways?”

“Well…” He clasps his hands behind his back and reverts his eyes to his right. “...I thought today was practice, but when I came here, I saw all this hoopla, so I decided to join!” He flashes the Finn a big grin, landing his eyes back on him.

Pekka still maintains his facial expression, this time with his fist against his jaw. “You’ve gotta work on your stories more.”

Carter frowns while adjusting his cap. “Aw, well…” He then makes another smile and points to his jersey with both fingers. “Can you still sign this?”

“Later.” The Finn picks up the jersey and drops it on top of his teammate’s arms.

“Aw…” With a sigh, the Canadian dips his head and sadly lumbers away, clutching onto his jersey; he is stopped by someone hissing out his nickname: “Hutts! Hutts!”

Carter perks his head up and gazes behind his shoulder, spotting Roman Josi, who is sitting next to Pekka, motioning him to come to him.

He rushes up to his teammate. “What is it?”

“Can you fill in for me?” the Swiss asks. “I wanna go somewhere.”

The Canadian swings his eyes over to Pekka, seeing him busy signing a fan’s poster. He then reverts his eyes back at his teammate. “Of course!”

“Thanks!” With a smirk, Roman gets up, rounds the table, and walks out of the room.

Getting excited internally, Carter slowly tip-toes to the end of the table, rounds it, and walks closer to Pekka. He then softly sits in Roman’s place. “Whew,” he lets out under his breath.

He then gazes at the line of fans, spotting someone out of place in the line: Evgeni Malkin holding a fluffy bunny and talking to James.

“Hello, Lazy,” Evgeni says in a deep, Russian-accented voice.

“Hey, Geno! Hey, Fluffy Bunny!” James happily fist bumps his old teammate and scruffs up the fur of the bunny.

“You are go with me?” the Russian asks.

“You want me go with you?” the Canadian translates.

“Yes.” Evgeni smiles with a closed mouth. “You are come with me.”

“Alright, let’s go!” James stands up, rounds the table, and walks out of the room with Evgeni.

The fans are suddenly confused that the first person at the table, James, left. So they exit the room as well.

“What--?” Pekka gapes at the door swinging on its hinges from the other side of the room as the last fan exited. “Where did they all go?”

“Ah yes, you and I!” Carter exclaims with a satisfied look on his face, looking at Pekka from the corner of his eyes. He props his legs on the table with places his hands behind his head.

The Finn turns to see the backup goalie sitting next to him. “What are you doing here? What happened to Roman?”

“Shhh…! I am Roman…” The Canadian reaches over for Roman’s name stand on the table and places it to his left, right by his legs.

Pekka scoffs with a roll of his eyes and knocks the name stand down. “What happened to everyone though? They just left when Neal left!”

“Come on, who doesn’t want to see us: Pekka and Carter!” Carter shouts into the empty room. “Without us, the Preds would be losing by twenty!”

“Yeah…” The Finn slumps with a frown. “But aren’t we enough?”

“Oh yeah.” The Canadian nudges his shoulder with his fist. “We’re definitely enough…!”

“So where did all the fans go? Why aren’t they with us?”

“Because they’re with someone else…?” he guesses between gritted teeth.

They look ahead of them, across the room. There is a huge window located on the other side of the room, showing the outside. Outside is teeming with fans, surrounding two particular skaters: Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn. They are sharing a table: Tyler is on the left with fans scattered in front of him; Jamie is on the right with fans in a line in front of him.

Carter and Pekka gaze at each other and exchange looks. “Bacon,” they say together.
“Should've known,” the Finn points out as he leans back in his chair with a sigh.

Suddenly, the door opens and a young looking guy with a blithesome, goofy-looking expression comes bouncing in. He then stops in his tracks as his eyes light up. He gasps and exclaims, “Carton!!!”

“Oh no…” Carter groans, pitching his nose with trepidation in his eyes.

“Do you know this guy?” Pekka asks with an inquiring look at his teammate.

“What, me?” The Canadian turns to the Finn. “No, no, I don’t-I don’t know who he is…”

“Or wait,” the guy says with his expression turning into a surprised look. “Or are you Bortz…?”
He gasps with his happy-go-lucky facial expression becoming visible again. “BORTZ!!!” He rushes up to Carter, leans over the table, and scoops him into a tight hug. “Oh, Bortz, how I missed you so much!!!”

“Mmmmmmmm--!!!” Carter squeaks out, having a hard time breathing.

“Hey, hey, off of him, off of him!!!” Pekka snaps, grabbing the hugger’s shoulders and prying him away from his teammate; Carter falls back into a sitting position.

The guy doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that his hug just got pulled away forcibly. “Well, I was wondering, do you guys know where Spikey is?”

The goalies exchange looks.

“Spikey is my cat, he’s white and fluffy and he floats whenever he sneezes!”

The goalies revert their eyes back up at the speaker.

“You see,” he continues, “he disappeared a long time ago and I’m starting to get really lonely without him and…”

Carter leans over to Pekka and whispers: “He’s gonna keep rambling on for hours. One time, Robert and I facetimed him and he stuck around for twenty-six hours.”

The Finn knits his eyebrows with confused surprise; he turns to him. “I thought you said you didn’t know him!”

“Oh, whoops.” He begins to turn red. “Hehe…”

“Who is this guy anyways?” Pekka points at the guy still blabbing about his cat.

“It’s Beau...Beau Bennett, right wing of the Pens. He’s friends with Robert and I am as well, so that’s how I got to know him,” Carter explains. “You know him?”

Pekka replies by shaking his head.

Beau continues talking: “After my calculations, Spikey would be in Nashville since everything hockey is in Nashville right now and he likes hockey… But where would he be in this city...? I mean, he likes ice and all--”

“In the ice rink?” Pekka cuts in with raised eyebrows.

Beau’s eyes widen with excitement. “Oh yes, thanks!” He happily strides to his left toward the door that is over there.

“You’re going the wrong…”

The Penguin exits the room though that door.

“...wrong way,” Carter says between gritted teeth.

“Oh well for that,” Pekka says with a scoff.

The door to their left opens up and someone ambles in with a sophisticated manner.

The goalies immediately recognize who this new visitor is: John Tavares.

“Ummm...may I help you?” the Finn asks as he sees the captain of the Islanders gaze around the room with some bewilderment.

“Yes.” John lands his sight on both of them. “Why is this recess vacuous?”

“Ummm…” Pekka gazes at Carter with a bewildered look.

Carter just shrugs and turns to John. “Can you repeat that...please?"

“Why is this recess vacuous?” the Islander repeats, stepping closer to them.

“Can you say that in English…?” The Canadian is now gritting his bared teeth.

“What a pity, I must elapse to primary school vocabulary so that you can comprehend what I am orating. Tsk, tsk, tsk…” He shakes his head. “Alright then: Why is the room empty?”

“Oh, see, isn’t that so much easier to say that than all the fancy-pansy-schmansy words you use?” Carter points out, throwing his hands into the air.

“No,” John replies sternly.

“Oh.” The backup goalie looks down with a frown.

“It’s empty because Bacon got all the fans,” Pekka mutters with a low tone, shooting daggers at the Stars with his eyes.

“Ah, yes, it’s paradigmatic for them to spirit away all the aficionados.” The Islander nods his head.

“What?” Carter gapes at him with his fist holding his head.

“Bury yourself in a thesaurus, kid,” he tells him seriously with narrowed eyes. He then looks at both of them, softening his features. “But is it okay for me to work in here? It’s quite nice to see an empty area here.”

“Ummm…” Pekka and Carter stare at each other, deciding whether to let this overly-smart skater stay with them or not. They then both look at John.

“N--”

“Yeah!” the Canadian shouts much louder than the Finn. “Yeah, yeah, by all means, sure...!” He chuckles nervously, realizing that he just contradicted what his teammate was going to say.

“Thank you.” The Islander nods his head. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.” He then turns around and saunters out of the room.

Once he is surely out, Pekka gazes at Carter harshly and snaps at him, “Why did you say ‘yes?!’”

“I’m sorry!” The backup goalie raises his hands, like as if he is surrendering. “I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to be nice!”

“Too nice,” he adds in, rolling his eyes while turning away from him.

John strolls back into the room with lots of equipment: his portable lab table with his chemistry objects such as glass flasks and tubes, his whiteboard that already has equations and formulas and Greek scribbled on it, and another table with papers and books. He sets up his portable lab right next to the table and begins working on whatever he was working on promptly.

The goalies eye the skater oddly, wondering what on earth he is doing.

“What are you doing?” Carter begins to ask. “How did you get that stuff here from New York? Are you a mad scientist? Are you going to blow up something?”

John snaps his head to stare at him with narrowed eyes. “All answers must not be disclosed.” He then sternly turns back to his whiteboard and begin to furiously write on it.

“Okay…” The backup goalie bares his teeth with awkwardness as he turns his gaze away from him.

The door opens and two people enter into the room.

“Neal!” Carter exclaims with happiness. “You’re back!”

“With Geno,” Pekka adds in with a frown, crossing his arms.

“Rozi is nap,” Evgeni says with a smile, walking closer to the goalies with James.

“Rozi?” The Canadian makes an odd look. “Who’s 'Rozi'?”

“Rozi is tiger. Good tiger.” The Russian halts in front of them.

“Tiger…?” The two goalies lean over the table to look at what Evgeni has next to him and his former teammate. It is an orange Siberian tiger, who is laying down right next to the table.

“Oh dear,” Carter squeaks out with fear written all over his face.

Pekka just stares at the large animal with wide eyes and a pale look.

“Rozi is sleep. Lazy and I is leave.” Evgeni turns around and begins to head out of the room with James.

“Neal!” the backup goalie shouts. “You hung around with the tiger?!”

James looks behind his shoulder to face his teammates. “Yeah.” He then faces the door that is ahead of him and walks out with Evgeni.

Carter stares at Pekka with a frightened look; Pekka is giving him the same look. They then lean over to see Rozi. The tiger is laying on its belly, sleeping peacefully.

“We’re gonna die!!!” Carter screeches, quickly pulling himself back against his chair. He then lifts his legs up, placing his feet on his chair, and hugs his legs against his chest. He faces his teammate, who is frozen with fear. “AHHHHH!!!” He flails his arms and ends up wrapping them around him.

The door on their right opens up and Roman walks in with Shea Weber.

“Hey, guys!” Roman starts saying cooly, not even acknowledging the situation the goalies are in. “Thanks for covering for me, Hutts.” He halts next to him with a smirk.

“You mean I can leave?” Carter squeaks out, looking at him from the corner of his eyes.
The Swiss shrugs. “Uh, yeah.”

The Canadian gazes back at the Finn. “Let’s get outta here!” He jumps onto his feet, grabs Pekka’s wrist, and zooms out of the room with him in pure haste.

Roman eyes the swinging door where the goalies just went though with confusion; he then turns to the captain of the Predators. “What’s up with them?”

Shea shrugs while sitting down. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re afraid of that tiger.”

Roman sits next to him. “That tiger’s stuffed--it’s doing nothing. Nah, it must be something else.
But yet again, they’re goalies and goalies are just naturally weird.” He waves his hand in the air in front of him aimlessly.

Shea gazes to his left, noticing John working on his experiment like as if there isn’t a tiger in the room. “Hey, Tavares.” He waves at him.

The Islander turns to his left. “Hello there, Weber.”

“Hey.” Roman raise his hand into the air as a way of greeting.

“Hello, Josi.” John nods his head at him, then turns back to his work.

“How the heck did Tavares get in here?” Shea asks, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the random skater.

“That’s what happen when you replace your spot with Hutts,” Roman mumbles, rolling his eyes. He then turns back to John. “Can you leave?”

The Islander looks at the Predator who just spoke. “No.” He then resumes writing on the whiteboard.

“Well, there goes gaining our fans here.” The Swiss sighs, slumping a bit. “Never am I ever going to ask Hutts to cover for me ever again.”

“Now you know,” Shea says.

“Yup.”

The door to their left opens up and Evgeni and James stroll back into the room.

“Rozi is snack time,” Evgeni states as he halts in front of the tiger.

Rozi automatically gets up on its four paws, stretches, then trots out of the room with the Penguin and the Predator.

Shea and Roman are sitting there in pure shock.

“I did not see that coming,” Roman murmurs tautly with wide eyes.

“And you said that thing was stuffed,” Shea mutters, frowning at him. “I hope Neal’s fine--we need him in one piece for the competition.”

“He seemed fine,” the Swiss points out. “He’ll be fine, he’s with Geno.”

The door on their left opens and Fleury and Iceburgh come swaggering in.

“Fleury? Penguin mascot?” Shea makes a confused look, grabbing onto the edge of the table while leaning back. “What are you guys doing here?”

“This is pretty cool,” Fleury exclaims, gazing around the room and nodding his head in agreement.

“What?” Roman asks, tilting his head a bit in puzzlement.

“There’s just one thing--” The goalie struts up to the table and slams his hands against the surface: “fans.”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re trying to gain and this guys’s not making it any better.” Roman nods his head toward John’s direction.

John is completely oblivious to what is going on.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly how to get fans swarming in this room!” Fleury pulls up the cloth bag and plops it onto the table. He then empties it out, placing towels, posters, jerseys, and other merchandise on the table.

Shea picks up a poster, unravels it, and scrutinizes it. “Fleury poster? Fans won’t want this--you’re in Nashville.” He tosses the poster back to Fleury, who is sitting down next to him.

The Penguin catches the poster. “Let me tell you, I have followers on Twitter who are here, awaiting to meet me. So trust me, everyone wants to see The Flower!” He turns to Iceburgh, who is sitting to his left. “Right, Iceburgh?”

Iceburgh nods his head and high-fives the goalie.

Little by little, fans begin trickling into the room, amazed that Fleury, who isn’t even part of the All-Star Game, is at the meet-and-greet! And before you knew it, the fans have flooded the room, wanting the Penguins’ goalie and mascot to sign their merchandise, along with Shea, Roman, and John.

“Ah yes,” Fleury exclaims, smirking at Iceburgh. “Mission accomplished!” He then high-fives him.


The End.

Notes