The sun is shining high and bright the next morning as the birds sing their morning song in tweets. Its radiant rays deluge the Monarossabergie House through the kitchen’s window as Max is happily flipping Swedish pancakes.

On the other side of the room, Brandon is stirring awake on the red couch that is facing the kitchen.

“Ugh…” Brandon’s eyes flutter open as they spot Max’s back from the other side of the room. “Hey, Maxi…”

Max spins around to face his roommate with delight, his spatula being held by his hand in midair. “Oh, you’re awake! Good morning, Brandon!” He turns back to his cooking.

Brandon gradually pulls himself up in a sitting position. “Good morning, Max—” He sits up and immediately yells: “OWWW!!!”

Max jolts up at Brandon’s yelling. “Yikes!” He then drops his spatula and sprints over to him. “What’s wrong?” He cranes down at him with worry.

Brandon places his hands on his back. He is grimacing. “I think I slept wrong.”

Max’s eyes widen. “Oh no, but we have practice today!”

“I-I’ll be--” Brandon rises on his feet. “--OKAY OWWW!!!” His hands shoots to his back. “Ow, ow, ow, ow…” He waddles off into the hallway. “...ow, ow, ow, ow…”

He passes by Joseph, who glares at him.

“Shut up.” Joseph slaps his back.

Brandon immediately stops walking. He straightens his back. He removes his hands from his back and turns to his teammate with a growing smile. “Thanks, Joey.”

Joseph shrugs. “Whatever.” He then strides to the entrance of the hallway, where there is a rectangular opening to his right that serves as a countertop and window for the kitchen.

He leans against the gray-coloured granite countertop and pokes his head through the space. “Monty’s broken,” he announces flatly to Max.

Max, with his spatula in the air, turns to his best friend. “Oh, he just slept wrong on the sofa.”

“Thanks to Big Ritch.” He rolls his eyes then mutters, “Can’t believe the guy took his bedroom.”

“Well, Brandon’s kind enough to let him have it,” Max points out while tilting his head toward him.

“Some people’s--”

“I smell pancakes…!” Nick lumbers from Joseph’s right with a small smile.

Max turns to Nick. “That’s because I’m making Swedish pancakes!” He picks up the skillet and shows him the cooking batter.

“Oh goody!” Nick claps his hands and jogs away from Joseph to get to the kitchen.

---

Later on in the morning, the newly formed team is gathered in the small locker of the Kroc Ice Arena. The teammates are gearing up for their first practice together when their new coach, Coach Dallas Eakins, strolls into the room with a matching Gulls sweatshirt and sweatpants.

He is a sturdy man with a square-shaped face, lowered eyebrows, and dark brown hair brushed back. He halts in the middle, peers at his team, and begins to speak:

“I’m your coach, Coach Dallas Eakins. I know, you guys remember me as the coach for the Edmonton Oilers. Now I am your coach, the coach of the San Diego Gulls. This is our first practice as a team and I am excited to see how we work together as one. Now let’s get on the ice.” He then strides out of the room.

His team, decked with practice jerseys of green, black, yellow, and gray, follows him into the massive room where the ice rink is laid out. They step into the benches; some settle their extra supplies at the bench while others head straight onto the ice.

One of those people who are on the ice is Ryan Faragher. Behind his mask, he has clear blue eyes, thick eyebrows, and stubble on the lower half of his face. He is warm-up skating with a new goalie buddy of his, Matt Hackett. Up ahead, he spots Joseph skating with Max.

“Hey, guys!” Ryan pushes himself up to them.

Joseph looks behind his shoulder to see the big goalie streaking up to him. “Hey.” He fist bumps him once Ryan brakes next to him. “Hadn’t seen you in forever.”

“It’s been only a day!” Ryan tells him through his goalie mask. “How’s San Diego going?”

Max transitions backward to face the two. “It’s going well! Lovely weather! How about you?”

“It’s cool! I’ve even made a new friend.” Ryan turns to his left and nods at Matt as he is gliding up next to him. “Guys, this is Matt.” He turns back to the two skaters.

Through his goalie mask, Matt has soft, gray eyes, broad eyebrows, and facial hair lining his jaw.

“Hi,” Matt replies shyly.

“Hello, Matthew!” Max greets with a sweet grin.

Joseph nods to the new goalie. “Hey.”

Ryan smirks at Matt as he continues talking about him: “He’s new to the team. Just came from the Sabres, but he has played in the AHL, so he knows how this league rolls as well.” He turns back to the others.

“Good,” Joseph replies. “We got stuck with an OHLer.” He eyes Nick and Brandon, who are skating together on the other side of the rink.

Max slides back over next to Joseph. “Weren’t you once an OHLer?”

Joseph tilts his head in an aloof manner. “Not anymore.”

“Hi guys!!!” a loud, giddy voice is heard from behind the four.

They all halt peer down toward their skates, where a quite short skater pops out from between Max and Joseph. Through his visor, he has green eyes speckled with yellow and arched eyebrows; below, he has butterscotch-coloured facial hair around his jaw and cheeks; from the sides of his helmet-covered head, his massive ears stick out.

“Oh, hello!” Max replies with cordiality. He continues on skating leisurely; naturally the others do so as well.

Joseph knits his eyebrows with a frown down at him. “Who are you?”

A massive smile appears on the small skater’s face before he replies ebulliently: “I’m Bryan Moore, Bryan with a ‘Y,’ not with an ‘I’ because it looks way cooler with a ‘Y,’ hopefully they don’t mess that up on the roster because I would FREAK!” --he brakes with a frightened look, then immediately continues blabbering on while skating-- “and I don’t like freaking out, but I’m new here and I want to get to know everyone here because I want to be buddies with everyone because buddies make me happy and I love to be happy!”

“You’ll never ‘buddies’ that way,” Joseph points out bluntly.

Bryan perks up at him. “Huh?”

Max smiles down at him. “I’m Max Friberg, but you can call me Maxi.”

Bryan gasps with wide eyes. “Awww, that’s such a cute name, Maxi!” He turns to Joseph, the second closest person to him. “And you are…?”

“Joseph Cramarossa.”

It is Bryan’s turn to make a disgusted look. “That’s an awful long name.”

“Call me Cram then," he replies sarcastically.

“Alright, Cram Cram!” he replies in a taunting manner.

“If you want double syllables, call me ‘Crammer.’”

“Crammer Slammer!”

“Stop it.”

“Cramarossa Slamarossa!”

Joseph glares at Bryan. “You’re just as bad as my brother.”

Bryan’s eyes light up. “Ooo, you have a brother? I have a brother—” Matt’s stick, which is swinging to the rhyme of his skating, hits his stomach. “Oof!”

Matt gasps at what just happened and brakes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he squeaks out with massive eyes. He resumes gliding on the ice.

Bryan waves his free, gloved hand in the air. “No worries, no harm done!” His eyes widen with delight at the opportunity to meet someone new. “Oh! What’s your name?”

“I’m Matt,” Matt tells him sweetly.

Bryan turns to Ryan. “And you are…?”

“Ryan,” Ryan responded coolly.

Bryan quickly transitions backward to face the four. “Well, my name is Bryan Moore, well, just Bryan, Moore is my last name, and I hope to be buddies with you guys! Bye for now!” He then zooms away from them.

They are now in a much-needed silence.

After a moment that silence, Max says, “What a ball of--”

“—annoyance,” Joseph replies flatly.

Max turns to his best friend. “I was going to say ‘energy.’”

“Hopefully he finds a buddy,” Matt says concerningly. “He’s too much for me.”

They all look ahead to see Bryan zipping around from one teammate to the next teammate just like a bee buzzing from one flower to another.

“He’s bound to find someone,” Max points out.

Then the whistle is heard from the benches: TWEEET!!!

Everyone gathers to the edge of the benches, where Coach Dallas is waiting from them. They kneel on the ice surrounding him in a semi-circle, patiently waiting for what he has to say.

“Now,” Coach Dallas begins, “we’re going to have a speech from our captain. Everyone: Captain Joe Piskula.” He extends his hand out to his left as a skater with a white “C” patch on his black jersey rises from the sea of Gulls and skates up to him.

“Aw, thank you!” Joe Piskula tells the coach in a bubbly, sort-of-goofy, voice. Behind his visor, he has squinty, blue eyes and some stubble around his massive grin.

He then turns to face his team. “Hello, folks!” He holds onto his stick like a cane. “I am your captain, Joseph Piskula, or Joe for short, as what the lovely Coach Eakins just announced!

“I am excited to be your captain for the inaugural season of the San Diego Gulls! This is going to be a season of fun and excitement and happiness and joy! I can’t wait to know every single one of you guys and make many goals and saves!” He hooks his arm across his upper body. “I can’t wait to see all the talent each and every one of you guys have! Cheers to a great season!” He ends by raising his stick up into the air with a massive grin.

Mostly everyone else returns to him blank stares except for one skater in particular.

“WOOOOOOO!!!” Bryan shouts, pumping his gloved fist into the air.

Joe points his stick at Bryan’s direction. “Yes! I love the spirit, so electric!”

Joseph rolls his eyes. “Wooo.”

Joe redirects his stick to Joseph. “I feel it more!”

“I can’t believe he has the same name as me,” Joseph mutters as he gives the captain a dead look.

“Now let’s go practice!” Joe pumps his stick into the air.

With that, everyone quickly clamours up and disperses into the ice.

“Wait!” Coach Dallas cries out at his scattering team. “But the drill!” He sees that no one is or would pay attention to him, so with the shaking of his head, he dumps the bucket of pucks onto the ice and climbs into the bench.

Joseph, who is with Max, murmurs to him, “Where did our captain even come from: Rainbow-Unicorn-Happy land?”

“Nashville!” Joe exclaims as proudly as he breezes by the two.

“See what country music does to your head?” Joseph rolls his eyes again.

From the other side of the rink, Brandon is skating down the ice with his new friend, Nick.

“Hey, Nicky,” Brandon nudges him with his free hand. “I wanna introduce ya to a friend of mine, Shea.”

Nick peers down at Brandon. “Shea Theodore?”

“Yeah!” Brandon makes an inquired look. “You know him?”

“Yeah, I played with him in the juniors for Canada.”

“Oh sweet, so he should know you too!” He skates ahead of Nick and up to Shea, who is all alone by the boards with his back facing him. “Hey, Shea!”

Shea turns away from the glass and to his defence partner. Through his visor, he has brown eyes, thin eyebrows, and some facial hair lining his chin. “Hey, Monty!” His eyes catch sight of his former Team Canada teammate. “And Ritch! Long time no see!” He fist bumps him. “Glad you’re part of the team now!”

“Yeah,” Nick replies sleepily.

“Hey, where’s Jaycob?” Brandon asks, referring to Jaycob Megna, Shea’s best friend and defensive partner.

“That’s whom I was looking for.” Shea shakes his head at the ice with a worn-out look. “Why does he always get lost?”

Then Jaycob, a tall, thick-haired brunette man, wonders by Shea from the other side of the glass. Shea does not notice him since his back is facing the glass; Jaycob does not notice him because, well, he’s lost.

Brandon notices him though: “Hey! She-Shea, he’s-he’s…”

Jaycob disappears into the zamboni tunnel.

“...oh,” he finishes.

Shea straightens up and faces the two skaters. “Wanna do some drills? I think we’re going sticktime-mode here.” He catches a runaway puck with the blade of his stick.

Nick shrugs. “Sure.”

They then skate away from each other and into position to begin practicing two-on-ones.

On the other side of the ice, Bryan has a different drill of his own: He is speeding down the ice, weaving through his teammates, giving his own play-by-play commentary like as if he is in a game.

“And here comes Moore, streaking through the neutral zone, crosses the blue line, jukes out the D, FIR— OOF—!” A puck whizzes out of nowhere, whamming Bryan in the stomach and detouring him past the net, pinning him against the boards.

“Whoooaaa, I am sooo sorry!” a friendly, shocked voice is heard coming to the splattered skater on the boards.

A tall skater brakes next to him, scanning him easily from head to toe. This is Stu Bickel, a defenceman for the Gulls. It is easily seen through his helmet that he has a symmetrical face with bright gray eyes, straight eyebrows, and a nice-shaped chin with stubble on it.

Stu leans down at Bryan imitating a sticker. “Are you okay? How can I—?”

Bryan just peels off from the boards and plops onto the ice.

Stu shrieks and bends over. “Eek! I am so sorry!” He pulls him up to his skates. “I didn’t see you there when I did that slap-shot—”

Bryan’s eyes are rolling over all around with stars flying out like as if he is in a daze. “Yeah…that’s hockey for you...” He then shakes his head, instantly gaining his composure. “I’m fine, just gonna need to go to the chiropractor.” He quickly cracks both sides of his back before turning to the towering defenceman. “Nice shot though, you got aim.”

“Not what I was aiming for,” Stu tells him worriedly.

“I know, it’s like I have a permanent target on my back, right?” Bryan shows his the back of his jersey and points to it like as if he has a target on his back.

“No, no, I didn’t mean to—”

Bryan turns back around to face him. “I was actually aiming for the goal myself, but then I went on a detour with your sick slap-shot. WOOOO!” His eyes roll back with his head craned back as he yells.

Stu chuckles nervously. “Haha, thanks…”

“So what were you aiming for if you weren’t aiming for me?”

“Uh…” He shifts his eyes from Bryan to the the net then back to Bryan. “...the net. What else?”

Bryan’s jaw drops. “Whoa. No way. I was aiming for the net too!” He places his hands on his face as best as he could with his gloves, stick, and helmet. “Oh my goodness, we’ve GOT to practice together!”

Stu shrugs. “Okay. I don’t have a partner anyway.”

“Cool! Let’s go!” He then skates off toward the center ice. Stu quickly follows from behind.

Meanwhile at the net Stu was attempting to aim for, John Gibson makes an amazing glove save.

The one who shot the caught puck, Joseph, brakes next to the goalie. “I hate to say this,” he grumbles off, “but that was a nasty glove save.”

John nods to him coolly with his brown eyes and facial hair on his chin behind his helmet; his dark brown hair is curled up from the bottom of his helmet. “Thanks, I take that as a compliment.”

“It’s suppose to be one— That’s what I hated saying it.”

Max brakes in between Joseph and John. “I’m glad you stuck with the team, John!”

“Same here!” John replies contently. “There’s a bunch of new guys here, but at least there’s familiar faces here, like you guys.”

“Yeah, I would lose my mind if none of you guys were here,” Joseph tells them, rolling his eyes once then landing them on John. “Can we swap Big Ritch out for you?”

John makes a confused expression. “Ritch?”

“Nick Ritchie: He’s our big roommate who takes ‘pre-lunch meals’ and ‘pre-dinner naps,’” he explains in a disgusted tone.

John chuckles at the statement. “Heh heh, I would love to, but I can’t. I already got a place. Sorry.”

“No worries, we’ll be fine,” Max assures him sweetly.

“As long as you’re here, we’ll be fine.” Joseph wraps his free arm around Max’s shoulders.

John taps Joseph’s and Max’s legs with his stick. “Come on, let’s get back playing.”

With a nod of their heads, Joseph and Max skate off to the blue line to get another shot at the goalie.

From the benches, Coach Dallas is staring out the stick time session his planned practice has evolved into. “When should I—?”

“Aw, let them be!” Joe brakes next to the boards, next to Coach Dallas. He is looking out at his team. “Let them get to know each other as buddies! Look at that, they’re having fun!” He extends his free hand at the ice.

Coach Dallas slightly frowns at the suggestion. “Yeah, I guess.” He shrugs. “Eh, I’ll let this be an orientation practice.” He stares down at the captain. “But tomorrow, we’ll do drills.”

“Better have one orientation practice than none!” With that, Joe skates off to join in on the stick time-like fun.

Notes

E.1 "Welcome to America's Finest City"
Part 3/6
Episode 1/20

---

And those are the first three parts of the inaugural episode (aka pilot) of AAOOOSC!: Gulls' Adventures!

So, what do you think of it so far? Comment, comment, comment!

I hope you'll like the AHL aspect of AAOOOSC!, seeing any differences between NHL and AHL ;)

This episode shall be wrapped up tomorrow *thumbs up*

And now, it's time for...SPORTS REPORTS!
1. CHARGERS ARE DEAD TO ME. 8(((((
2. Sharks win!!! Islanders win!!! Preds win!!! Pens win!!! Everyone wins! *throws confetti up in the air*
3. NFL playoffs: Packers vs. Falcons (NFC) | Steelers vs. Patriots (AFC) I'm rooting for the Falcons (thanks to my bro) :)
4. Stars win 8-1 against the Crush last Tuesday! Haha, that's my women's league teams :D I'm in the Stars, so Go Stars!!!!!!!!! :DDD
5. Gulls are slaughtering the Barracuda 4-0! Oh yeah, did I mention that Adam Jones (Chris Davis's BFF) is there?
6. And that's it! *dances to "I Have A Dream" from Tangled*

Alright, that is all for tonight! See you tomorrow for the other half of this episode!
BYEEEEE! :D