AAOOOSC! Future!

On the other side of the city is the skyscraper where the League Leaders are located. Inside the skyscraper on the top floor is where the members of League Leaders, which consists of three elderly men, are in. The leader of the League Leaders is Harry, who has a short temper; the other member is Larry, who has a cane with him at all times due to his bad posture and is awkward; the last member is Gary, who gets around in a portable bed, since he is sleepy all the time.

The room they are in is huge: white floors and ceiling, a huge window behind the desk that is on the other side of the room; sofas and coffee tables scattered around; a treadmill to the right along with a TV.

“I’m so happy!” Harry exclaims, raising his fists up in triumph from behind his desk. “Finally, that stress of being fearful of hockey players getting hurt is finally gone!” He drops his hands onto his desk.

“Maybe you can grow back a few brown hairs now!” Larry points out with a chuckle while walking on the treadmill.

The leader narrows his eyes. “Very funny,” he mutters. He turns back to his desk, which the surface is projecting holographic images of emails, blueprints, and a keyboard. “Today marks the day of sports’ history. And less use of bubble wrap--”

“I like bubble wrap,” Gary murmurs in his sleep while passing by the desk in his hovering, portable bed.

“Do ya think anyone’s gonna protest though?” Larry asks, adjusting the treadmill’s speed.

“Bah, they can protest all they want!” Harry waves his hand in the air in a shooing motion. “Us League Leaders have enough power to withstand protesters! We just say that it is for the benefit of the hockey players...and humanity…” He nods his head in agreement. “Yes.”

“The last thing that I want is when those flyin’ cars get legalized for public, there’d be a whole lot of people banging at our window, tellin’ us to remove them robots,” Larry tells him, pointing his cane at the window. Suddenly, he loses his balance, falls face flat on the treadmill and is flung sharply to the other side of the room. He smashes against the wall and plummets to the ground in a crumpled manner.

“Oh, Larry…” Harry says, shaking his head. “...you never fail to forget keeping your cane off the ground, eh?”

“One day…!” Larry groans, raising his cane weakly up in the air. “One...day…”

“Any who--” The leader types something on the blue, cutting edge surface of the table. “--no need to worry about pro--”

“Harry!” a familiar voice booms from the other side of the room.

Harry perks his head up from his desk with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

Marching into the room from the entrance is Connor, who is now wearing the ruler of the NHL attire, consisting of the black uniform and red, royal robe.

“Oh, hello there, Mr. McDavid!” Harry greets calmly and as sweetly as possible; he clears the information of the desk from view with one swipe of his hand.

“I thought we had an agreement!” the Oiler snaps, planting his hands against the surface of the table while leaning toward the leader.

The elder man leans back in his swivel chair with a hint of horror on his face. “I-I-I-I had to do what I had to do. It’s for the benefit of the hockey players--”

“Driving hockey players out of their jobs is gonna benefit them?!” Connor roars, straightening up. “With these robots, I no longer can play!” He slams his fist against his chest. “And if I can’t play, the EHP can no longer be partners with you guys!” He points an angry finger at him. “We had an agreement!” He looks like he is on the verge of throwing a major temper tantrum.

“I’m sorry, but I already launched the project… We’re the League Leaders, leaders of the leagues. We have more power than you, sonny.” He leans over to him and quickly jabs his chest.

“How can you have more power than me?! I’m captain of the Oilers, I’m captain of Canada! I’m the Master of the EHP! And if the EHP has the NHL, which we do, I’m in charge of the NHL as well. I have much power as you! And on top of that, I have the powers of the ruler of the NHL.” He crosses his arms.

“But do you have the power to control all the sports leagues? Hm?” Harry tilts his head to a side. “I don’t think so. So therefore, we have more power than you.”

“But didn’t I have a say in whether the robots would be used or not?” He places his hand on his chest. “I said ‘no.’ And the agreement was that if you guys went on with the robots, then I’ll turn the EHP against you and the power players will beat you guys again like last time.”

“Don’t bring that up,” Harry hisses between his teeth.

“You’re lucky you guys are still in power after that event.” He gives him a sly look. “So--” He begins pacing back and forth in front of the desk. “--do you want the help and protection of the EHP, or do you want…” He turns around and faces him. “...to have your worst enemy?”

“Not like in my nightmares!” Gary yelps, cramming his pillow against his head as his bed glides behind Connor and out of sight.

“I’m dearly sorry, but I must continue on with the robots…” Harry states with a grave expression.

“UGH!” In ire, Connor strikes the window with a blast of yellow energy.

The window shatters and a blast of wind starts circulating the whole room.

“Bloomin’ heck!” Harry yells over the rushing wind. He jumps up from his seat and rushes away from the opened window, since he was right behind it.

The Oiler turns around to face Harry, who stops running at the centre of the room, as the tail of his robe is flapping behind him. “I’m gonna bring you your doom. You brought me mine, now I bring you yours.” He strolls toward the entrance, but then halts next to Harry on the way and faces him. “You asked for it.” He then flicks his robe at him and continues exiting the room.

Once he exits the room, the huge, silver doors close behind him with a deep sound.

“Oh great!” Harry throws his hands up into the air. “He just came here to give us an excuse to buy a window!”

Larry, who is now already up, hobbles over near the desk, but far enough to not get swallowed up by the wind. “Well, at least everything's digital now and there’s no papers.” He watches the swivel chair get thrusted into the city.

“But I mean--” The leader turns around to face his sidekick. “--what can McDavid do about the robots? He’s nothing compared to our power!”

“If I were you,” Larry says as he shuffles back toward Harry, “I wouldn’t underestimate him. After all, he does have more physical powers than you. And more hair.” He then chuckles as he continues lumbering away.

Harry just stands there, looking like he’s ready to explode any moment.

Notes