May 15, 2016
Over a week later…

It is a cloudy May afternoon with gloom hanging over the city of San Diego. The skies are gray, the sun is obscured, the atmosphere is soporific.

The mood of the weather reflects the mood inside the Monarossabergie House: In the living room, Bryan Moore is telling a sad story of his own with Brandon Montour, Matt Hackett, Ryan Faragher, Stu Bickel, and Joe Piskula sitting on the sofas and reclining chairs, absent-mindedly listening. Nick Ritchie is lying on his own sofa, napping, while Joseph Cramarossa is sitting on the dining room table, eating a pasta dish.

“I looked upstairs,” Bryan says in an overdramatic narrator’s voice, “I looked downstairs, I looked in the attic, I looked in the basement. But I couldn’t find it.

Then Kyle came up to me and told me the horrified truth: ‘Bryan,’ he told me, ‘I’m sorry, but the dog ate your lucky stick tape roll.’” He then lets out a wail: “OH! THE TRAGEDY! MY LUCKY STICK TAPE ROLL! In the pit...of a dog’s stomach…”

With a sigh, Brandon turns away from the small skater with his fist holding up his head. His mind wanders off to the most recent devastating truth: the Gulls are out of the playoff race.

Last night, they lost the fifth game in Ontario against the Ontario Reign, the AHL affiliate of the Los Angeles Kings. They had to take the bus ride home in the pouring rain.

Now things are not looking any better: the weather is moody, everyone is dispirited, and it is months until the new season comes around.

With sad eyes, Brandon peers to his right, catching sight of Joseph contently eating his lunch all alone. His roommate’s cold eyes then lock with him, causing him to instantly shift his eyes to a different spot.

His eyes land far right in the kitchen into the space in the wall that shows the hallway. Hanging on the space’s wall is a circular, flat yellow-coloured clock, hanging right above the toaster.

Brandon keeps his gaze on it, anticipating for the minute hand to move. Yet either time has slowed down, stopped, or the clock is broken because the longer, thinner hand stays still.

Brandon narrows his eyes at it. Is it gonna move?

The clock does not move its hands an inch.

He lets out a slight huff. It must be broken.

So he rises to his feet as Bryan continues his tragedy of his lucky stick tape’s fate and strolls past Joseph, who follows him with his eyes before returning to his lunch. He ambles behind the countertop and halts by the clock, in front of the refrigerator.

He reaches over the toaster, grabs the clock with both hands, and slips it down from its nails. Yet before he could examine it clearly, a streak of purple energy strikes him, immediately having him vanish from the room.

With the holder no longer in the presence of the room, the clock falls through the air and hits the hard floor with a harsh clatter.

The loud noise halts Bryan’s story and makes everyone sit up straight. Joseph whirls behind his shoulder, catching sight of the empty kitchen.

“Monty!” He launches out from his seat and rushes into the kitchen, behind the counter top. He stares down the fallen clock with wide, bewildered eyes. He peers back up across the room at his teammates, who are looking at him with shock.

“Where-where did he go?” Joseph turns back to the clock and leans over to pick it up. “I saw him going back here--” He swipes the clock from the floor, immediately being engulfed in the identical streak of purple energy and disappearing.

Bryan’s eyes fly open at the sight he just witnessed. “Whoa!” He hops down from the sofa and onto his feet. “I wanna disappear too!” He darts up to the clock, which is across the room.

“No, don’t!” Stu states sternly, reaching his hand toward him.

Bryan snatches the clock from the ground and raises it up in the air. “WOOOOO!!!” He then disappears in a flash of purple energy.

Stu gawks at the sight in trepidation. “Oh no…”

Joe looks slack-jawed at the kitchen. “What in the wild west is happening?!”

The tallest skater turns to him anxiously. “Well, um--”

Matt pipes in: “Actually--”

“Beats me,” Ryan cuts in with a shrug.

“It looks like a lot of fun!” Joe turns to his other teammates. “We gotta check on our teammates!” He jumps to his feet and bounds into the kitchen.

He then faces the others with an index finger in the air. “Can't leave 'em behind in an unknown territory!” He scoops up the clock and shouts, “Yippee-kai-yo-kai-yay!!!” He then dissolves in a blast of purple energy.

Now it is the defenceman, the goalies, and the sleeping forward in the room.

Stu turns to the other two awake people. “Are you guys sure--?”

“I don't wanna leave them inside the clock!” Matt cries out. “I wanna help them!”

Ryan turns to his goalie buddy with a grimace. “Wait, you think they're in the clock?”

Matt faces him with a shrug. “Well, where else would they go?”

Stu lets out a groan. “I've gotta get Bryan before he does anything silly.” He lifts himself to his feet and plods to the kitchen.

He stands in front of the fallen clock, then peers back at the two goalies. “Are you guys coming?”

“What about Nicky?” Matt asks, nodding his head behind him, where Nick is still snoozing.

“He can sleep for hours.” Stu rolls his eyes. “Don't worry about him. Now let's go!” He then picks up the clock and disappeared in a streak of purple energy.

Ryan and Matt look at each other and nod. They get up in unison and amble toward the clock. They peer down at the ordinary-appearing, yet strange object.

“Let’s do it together,” Ryan tells him lowly. “On the count of three.”

Matt nods his head in response, trepidation written all over his face.

With the bravest expression on his face, Ryan hovers his hand over the clock. Matt does the same as well.

“One…,” Ryan starts, “...two...three!” They then touch the clock at the same time.

Thick, bright, purple energy immediately swipes across them, vanishing them into a world unknown.

Notes

E.17 "The Icemare Decade"
Part 1/6
Episode 17/20