New York City, New York, USA
July 8, 2017
Evening

Nighttime has fallen in the east coast of North America, turning all the dazzling lights on in New York City. In one of the clusters of lights stands the headquarters of the NHL in Downtown New York City in all of its brilliance. Yet down below in its basement is where all the festivities are taking place:

A burgundy-themed theatre is filled with formally-dressed major professional hockey players; more specifically, power players of the NHL. In the front row are cyan-coloured holographic older men, the founders of junior, collegiate, and minor professional hockey leagues. Displayed before them is a brightly-lit stage with velvet curtains in the background.

Standing on the stage, in front of a microphone with its stand, is Tommy Gorman himself. He is wearing a holographic suit and tie, matching his own physique. He gazes out at the small audience with a content smile.

“Hello, gentlemen of the supernatural side of the NHL!” he announces in an orotund tone.

All the power players and founders turn their attention to him.

“Thank you very much for attending the NHL Expansion Power Player Ceremony!” Tommy continues on, adjusting the microphone in its stand. “This is an event that doesn’t happen so often, which gives it more meaning when it does! It brings me much joy to see all thirty—or should I say thirty-one?—power players gathered together in harmony to celebrate the expansion of not only our league, but our society of power players.”

He then pauses as the audience erupts in a roar of claps.

“But we are not here to just recognize the new member of our NHL power player society, we are also here to promote our next-in-line NHL ruler.” He then flicks his eyes to a certain member of the audience. “Not to say that you’re retiring anytime soon, Jonathan.”

In the audience, Jonathan Toews, the current ruler of the NHL, lets out a nervous chuckle. To his right, his good friend, Patrick Kane, gives him a nudge in his arm, as John Tavares, to his left, smirks at him.

“Now,” Tommy continues on, “we shall get on with the show!” He slips his hands under his blazer and pulls it out, now holding a slip of paper.

He gazes back at the audience. “A couple of weeks ago, the NHL just completed the roster of its newest team, the Vegas Golden Knights.”

“Ohhh Flower!” Sidney Crosby bellows from the audience with tears in his eyes. “What are we ever going to do?!” He grabs a tissue from the box of tissues his favourite stuffed animal in a tuxedo, Bubby, is holding in the seat next to him. He blows into it.

Tommy peers at the Penguins’ power player before turning back to the rest of the audience. “With that being said, I would like to introduce the newest member of the NHL power player society, the team’s founding member himself: Reid Duke!”

The audience begins to applaud cheerfully as they follow the man called up with their eyes.

A young man rises from his seat on the edge of the audience and fast-walks down the aisle with a large, closed smile plastered on his face. He has his dark blond hair combed back, showing off his extremely arched eyebrows and rounded, cerulean-coloured eyes.

His attire consists of a navy blue suit over a white dress shirt with a white and navy blue-striped tie, navy blue dress pants and matching black leather shoes and belt. This is Reid Duke, the first player ever to be signed with the Vegas Golden Knights.

With his heart slamming against his chest due to perturbation, he bounds up the stage’s steps, jumping into the spotlight with a smile that cannot be wiped off. He saunters up to the founder, who steps aside to make room in front of the microphone.

Reid halts in front of it. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm down as he clutches onto the microphone’s body with his sweaty hands. He stares out into the darkness of the audience, only able to distinguish the glowing founders in the first row.

He then clears his throat to strive to talk: “Ahem.”

Suddenly, a loud, shrill feedback ricochets through the room, causing him to pull away with a grimace.

Groans and grumbles echo throughout the audience area as the uncomfortable sound fades off.

Reid slowly leans back toward the microphone with cautious eyes. “Sorry,” he mutters into the grill of the device in his fruity voice. He braces himself for another feedback to slice through the air, yet silence only answers him.

“Okay, I think it’s good.” He places his foot on the microphone stand’s base, attempting to relax. “Hi, I’m Reid Duke—” He gives a quick wave to the darkness. “—you guys should know me as the lone Golden Knight that played soccer by himself. It’s great to have a full roster now.” He chuckles, easing his thumping heart.

“Um—” His eyebrows shoot up. “It's an honour to be a part of you guys and the society of the power players. It’s great, I finally get to use my powers!” He adjusts the microphone on the stand. “Hopefully, I can use them for something good, I really want to make a great impact on the NHL…”

His eyes light up as another point comes to mind. “Also—” He shoots his hand ahead of him. “—I would like to introduce my beautiful date for the night. Put a spotlight on him, please?”

A spotlight appears on the back of the room, causing the audience to shift themselves around to look at whom the spotlight is shining on.

In the spotlight is a majestic golden Suffolk punch horse. The horse is wearing a customized matching navy blue three-piece suit, just like his owner, including a black newsboy cap on his head, which his ears are protruding from.

“He looks mighty dashing, doesn’t he?” Reid remarks with a proud smirk. “This is Crusty, my trusty destrier, actually.” He quickly diverts his attention to the destrier. “Hey, Crusty.” He nods at him and emits a clear whistle.

Crusty perks up at his owner and lets out a bugling whinny with his ears forward and relaxed and his tail held high. He begins to trot down the aisle, toward the stage; the spotlight smoothly follows him.

Reid steps away from the microphone and walks over to the edge of the stage, facing his destrier. He kneels down just as his destrier stops in front of him and nudges his head toward him with a rumbling nicker.

“Haha!” Reid lets out a laugh of delight as he holds Crusty’s head with both hands and pets his exposed, dark golden mane. “Crusty here had to be dressed up for the occasion or else Mr. Gorman wouldn’t allow him to be here.”

Tommy lets out a hearty chuckle from the other side of the stage. “Dressed up or not, Reid, I would’ve allowed him in. I allow any horse in; I love ‘em all!”

“And that’s how I was able to have my powers associated with Crusty here.” Reid gives a nice rub on Crusty’s neck. “And that’s it! You can meet Crusty at the afterparty. Thank you, guys!” He then slides off from the edge of the stage and into the spotlight, landing next to his horse.

The audience explodes in applauses as Reid returns to his seat with his destrier.

Tommy steps back to the centre stage in front of the microphone with a massive grin on his face. “I had to give one of you power players a horse! You gotta love ‘em!” He then holds up the same slip of paper in his hand and peers at it. “And now for our last recognition, I am going to need Jonathan’s help.”

The audience breaks out into acclamation as Jonathan Toews strides down the aisle. He has short, brown hair slightly combed upward with thick eyebrows, wide, brown eyes, light stubble, and a big, nervous grin. His attire consists of a white dress shirt under a black blazer and tie with his opal robe clasp clipped onto his breast pocket and black dress pants, belt, and shoes.

He steps up to the stage, walks over to the microphone, and stands behind it as Tommy moves to his corner.

Toews stares out at the darkness while the claps die down. “Thank you!” he calls out in a tentative tone. “As you should know, I am the ruler of the NHL. But I am not the only one, as there is a successor sitting in this room right now.”

The power players gaze at each other in search of the said successor with curious mumbles.

“And I’ll like to introduce you to him.” He gives a pursed smile before announcing: “Connor McDavid.”

From the second row, Connor’s eyes light up at the calling of his full name. Whoa! My name is called for the ruler of the NHL! I'm the next ruler of the NHL? I get to rule the NHL!

With an elated expression and a rising heartbeat, he springs out from his seat, revealing his gray suit and black tie, and rushes down the aisle.

He then slows down his approaching once he nears the stage. He ambles across the platform and coolly removes the microphone from its stand as Toews backs away from him.

“Hello, NHL power players!” Connor exclaims through the device. “Oh, it’s so great to know that I am your next NHL ruler! I cannot wait to rule over you guys! I’ll be the best ruler you have ever seen.” He turns to Toews and whispers, “No offence, Johnny.”

He then reverts back to the audience. “I’ll quickly start planning with your guys’ tips to rule like one has never witnessed before!” He then places his hand on his chest. “This is coming from the captain of the Oilers, who was just in his sophomore year and already led his team to the playoffs.”

He drops his hand and peers at the dark. “Thank you for supporting me and I’m excited to be your next ruler of the NHL.” With a smirk, he twirls around and whisks away from the microphone, disappearing in the growing darkness as he descends from the stage.

Toews quickly follows him, his eyes in a daze as his mind attempts to process what Connor just said. “I cannot wait to rule over you guys”! “...rule like one has never witnessed before!”? Does he think that this position is about LITERALLY ruling? It’s not… I gotta talk to him about this… He returns back to his seat.

Tommy is now back at the microphone with a grand grin on his translucent face. “And that concludes the ceremony! There will now be an afterparty at my basement!” He extends his hand to the left, where a pair of double doors is located under an exit sign. “I’ll be with you guys there in a moment! Enjoy yourselves! And give Crusty a love pat! I’ll be with the other founders here before I join you guys. Goodnight for now, gentlemen.”

With that, the power players rise from their seats and begin filing through the doors into Tommy’s basement, where the afterparty is located.

Notes