The weather in Paris begins to heat up as the sun is rising. With that, the ice cube the League Leaders are stuck in together begins to melt. After the slow sunrise has ended, the ice cube has become chunks of ice surrounded by multiple puddles of water.

“Bah, that stubborn McDavid!” Harry shouts, breaking his foot free from a chunk of ice. “Had to bring Crosby along to give us our doom!” He slams his foot down on the wide, steel beam they are standing on. “And now we’re stuck here-here…” He gazes around his surroundings in anger. “...wherever we’re at!”

“We’re in Paris!” Larry exclaims, yanking his cane out from the ice’s possession; his knees down are trapped in ice, which is a good thing. “I recognize the view! One lovely view, I shall say!”

“Wait…” Harry rubs his chin in suspicion with narrowed eyes. “Crosby… Why on earth would McDavid bring Crosby along? He hated him, Crosby was in the GHP, why would he work for McDavid, who is in the EHP?”

“Isn’t Crosby retired?” Larry asks.

“He looks much younger,” Gary adds in from his bed, squeezing excess water from his blanket.

“Hmmm… Something’s up with Crosby. And McDavid. I must talk to them--!” Harry is about to exit from where he is, but then he stops when he sees the huge drop that awaits him from below. “Ah, curse McDavid and Crosby with their flight! We’re too high up!” He shuffles back into the railings, crossing his arms.

“How are we gonna get out?” Larry questions with hesitation.

Harry turns to Gary. “Gary, start up your bed!”

Gary turns to his panel of buttons that are on the side of the bed and presses some. The bed makes some sputtering sounds, trembling a bit. He then straights up to face the leader. “I can’t--the engine’s frozen. It’ll take a while before it warms up.”

“Curse Crosby and his ice powers!” Harry bellows, shaking his fist up in the air with fury.

“If only they didn’t have powers, then we could’ve been in our office, all nice and warm…!” Gary exclaims, twisting his blanket to release the rest of the water stored in there.

“If only they didn’t have powers…” Harry repeats under his breath. “That’s it!” His eyes light up with glee. “That’s it! We set out to get rid of all the power players’ powers! Yipee!” He throws his hands in the air.

“But remember what happened when we did that last time?” Larry tells him solemnly. “We barely managed to escape!”

“Well, it’d be different this time!” Harry hooks his arm in front of him, turning to his pessimistic member. “We can learn from our past mistakes during that event and with that, we can avoid making those mistakes and actually claim victory!

“Then with no more supernatural powers, we can do whatever we want to do, including launching the project with the robots! We can be unstoppable! Oh, this is just all too easy!” He gazes up at the railings above him with a rare smile growing on his face.

“He does have a point,” Gary tells Larry. “We have a better chance winning than before.”

“So would we have Tavares help us again?” Larry turns back to Harry.

“Yes, definitely! He is a key person to our plan!” He takes his phone out from his pocket. “And it’s a bonus that he has disdain toward McDavid!” He brushes the water and small pieces of ice from his phone and turns it on. “I’m glad all phones are now waterproof." He dials up John’s number and places his phone to his ear.

---

On the other side of the world, John’s red rotary dial telephone starts shaking while emitting
loud rings, jumping from its holder.

John, who is in the living room, reading in the night with his lamp as his only source of light, places his book down and stares at the phone. He reaches over to his left, picks up the phone, which halts its ringing, and places the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he says with curiosity.

“Ah, Tavares!” Harry starts off, beginning to place back and forth in the little room the level has to offer. “This is Harry here, leader of the League Leaders! How are you on this fine day?”

The retired Islander’s stomach lurches once he hears who’s calling him. “Oh, um…” He pulls off his glasses and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “...I-I’m well. How-how about you…, sir?”

Harry halts at the edge of the beam, staring out into the view of the capital of France. “Oh, better than ever! Say, are you busy at the moment?” He ducks his head back into the level, leaving the view behind.

“Uh...no…” John is staring blankly ahead of him while fiddling with the pages of his book mindlessly. “W-why?”

“Because, I have the greatest idea and I would love for you to be apart of it!” Harry exclaims, passing by his other two members.

“And...what is that, precisely?” John knits his eyebrows with a frown.

Harry stops pacing once he ends up on the other side of the beam, looking out at the city of Paris. “I would like to relaunch Project Removal!”

“Project Removal…” John mutters, casting his eyes to the bottom left. He gasps a bit, his eyes flying wide open. “You-you want to purge the power players afresh?”

“Yes, because if it wasn’t for the power players, then we wouldn’t be stuck in the Eiffel Tower and not be able to launch the robot project for the NHL without difficulties!” Harry shouts into the phone, his regular angry taking over his rare happiness.

John is taken aback by the shouting of Harry, causing him to pull the phone away from his ear as he leans into the sofa’s cushions. He waits a few moments after Harry’s rant until he places his phone back to his ear. “Well, I-I can covey you to New York--”

“So that McDavid and Crosby can put us back up here again?!” Harry roars into the line.

The retired Islander thrusts his phone away from his ear, trying to avoid his eardrum from bursting due to the loudness of Harry’s voice. After a few moments of silence has passed, John places the phone back against his ear. “I’ll ruminate on it,” he replies calmly.

“Ruminating is not an option. We have no time to spare. It’s either a yes...or a yes.”

“I’ll ruminate on it,” John repeats again, this time in a more grave tone. He then quickly places the phone back into its holder, ending the call. “I can’t believe it,” he starts off, staring at the phone, “they’re executing it again.” He turns around to face his empty, dark foyer. “I must apprise Crosby.”

Notes