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*Puppy* · 12-24-2023, 07:47 PM

A Very Owlet Christmas Eve
A simple story of how the QCC S75 rookies shared an eventful Christmas Eve Citadelles

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Pressing open the heavy glass door to Mr. Kim’s Korean BBQ, a flood of cold Quebec winter air spilled into the warm restaurant like an artic breeze. Demir Bellona stepped into the warmth of the smoky room and frantically sealed the door to keep the elements outside. Taking off a pair of wool winter gloves, he scanned around the scattered groups of people sitting around tables. Back near the corner next to the kitchen entrance were two of the three rookie companions set to attend the evening gathering; Fredrik Gronlund and Song Ju-gong sitting across from one another. Demir waved a hand as those half-frozen legs began a slow walk across the room, the smell of cooked pork, lamb and vegetables filling the air with an aroma as comforting as it was appetizing.

“Late as expected. What a surprise.” Fredrik gave a little smirk as he put down a glass of ice water.

“Yeah well everything is in French, it’s a miracle I can get around at all. Besides, I’m not even the last one here.”

Demir pulled off his winter coat and slid into the seat next to Ju-gong. The red leather booth seat was something that felt out of an American diner, a feature they were all too familiar with after a dozen trips to Denny’s in the first half of the season. It felt slightly out of place as the table before them had been repurposed to have a stove in the center for cooking their meal. Alongside the stove was no less than 20 different sides dishes all evenly portioned out onto small white plates. Who knows how early Ju-gong had arrived to set up everything here, clearly he was excited to take the rookies out to KBBQ - it was his idea in the first place.

“This uh, all looks interesting…” Demir scanned over the endless sea of sides and sauces, already dreading the lack of table space soon to come, “But I honestly have no idea what most of this is? Is this like, squid tentacles?”

“Ojingeochae, it goes well with pork.” Ju-gong had an infectious smile on his face. The kind of smile that would make someone feel guilty for not sampling the weird fish concoction on offer, regardless of how sick it might make an Italian tongue.

Demir looked to Fredrik in hopes of some extra bit of clarity, to which the Norwegian simply shrugged his shoulders cluelessly. Not just five minutes earlier, he too had tried to inquire about a few of these sides, only to end up equally as confused as a result. ‘Gyeran mal yee, mussammari, yangpa jangajji’ Fredrik had tried to google search one of their names on his phone, but when the translation simply returned “Radish paper” any remaining hope was lost.

“So uh, should we go ahead and order? I’m fine being a little cold or hungry, but both at once is pretty lame.”

Both of the fellow rookies nodded in agreement, and within a moment, Ju-gong was waving his hand towards the waiter in a very urgent manner. Something like this may have been a bit ‘cringe-worthy’ a few months ago, but having spent enough time around their Korean goaltender, they simply accepted things for what they were.

To make matters worse, the waiter was a fluent Korean as well. Meaning both defensemen simply sat there twiddling their thumbs as they relied on their quirky teammate to order them something that was not just edible, but hopefully good as well. While Demir was happy to let their teammate take the wheel, Fredrik waved to the waiter once the order was done, and pointed towards a poster displaying a spiced beef entrée so beautifully plastered onto the dark window beside them.

“And one spiced beef plate… is that all?”

“Yes… thank you.”

As expected, when Fredrik looked back over to Demir, his buddy had a glowing nice-job-idiot smirk on his lips.

“French, English, Korean, it’s a coinflip on who speaks what in a place like this okay.”

“Giusto?”

“Don’t start with me, two can play at that game, venn.”

Ju-gong smiled as the two European rookies promptly kicked at each other’s legs diagonally from across the booth. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, what else could anyone expect from a few first round defensemen in a friendly competition? Rather, he went about passing out a set of metal chopsticks to each of their places, not giving any concern whether they’d be able to use them. After a bit more preparation, and a little banter between teammates, a plate of uncooked meat came out to their table. Without any more instruction, the waiter cranked the fire up under their grill, and left them to fend for their feast like true birds of prey.

“Oh nice, pork!” Demir’s taste buds felt a wave of relief and excitement as he picked up the plate, and with tongs in hand, began to finagle the cuts of meat onto the quickly warming grill. The soft sizzle of meat and gentle heat radiating off the center of the table was nothing short of total comfort, a campfire down by a cold river no less cozy and welcoming.

To Ju-gong it was even more enjoyable, reminding him a little bit of home back at one of his favorite restaurants in Anyang.

“Make sure to cook the mushroom as well.” Ju-gong tilted his head to the other plate that had been delivered. Nothing more than a plate of long white enoki mushrooms - without even the slightest hint of seasonings.

Happy to oblige, Demir started to scatter some of those around the grill as well. A small grimace of disappointment fleeting from the face of Fredrik - those long bunches of not-meat took up precious grill space.

“You know, we did have a long practice before the Christmas break… maybe we could you know, get a few extra calories?”

Ju-gong gave a small laugh at smiled back at Fredrik, “Of course that’s the best part, but your plate needs color. We’re having a meal after all.”

“Okay… but I don’t think my stomach appreciates color as much as you think it does.” Knowing it was an argument he’d never win, the Norwegian leaned back into his seat a bit. Seriously, they had skated so many and forward and backward drills, eating three plates of that pork would be no issue at all.

That feeling only multiplied by the time the entrée was fully cooked, and Fredrik was able to taste the pork. For the next 60 seconds, there was a mad scramble to collect as much of that sizzling delight as possible and shovel it onto plates, rice, and down the hatch. Mid chewing, Fredrik began nodding somewhat frantically for Demir to add more to the grill, which he urgently complied with. As the other two feasted like animals, Ju-gong simply scooped his up with sides, collected some rice, and savored the fatty flavors.

“I forgot how good this was… I mean Denny’s is great, but this is so good too… We should get this way more often!” Demir eagerly dipped his chopsticks in one of the many sauces available.

“Iws rweaa espensive.” Fredrik chewed back.

“I’m sorry, are we still speaking Norwegian?”

“It’s really expensive, at least compared to something like a grand slam combo.”

“Yeah I guess so, but still, this has got to be worth it.”

Ju-gong nodded in agreement, “I’ve never smelled so much eggs and bacon before in my life…”

As the meal was well underway, another cold breeze suddenly tickled the backs of their necks. That frigid Canadian air was no joke, and anytime that door opened, it seemed to cut through the warmth of the grill and give a little chill. Somehow though, this chill felt even more spine tingling than the others, and that feeling was only punctuated with a loud thud, as the door to the restaurant closed without the slightest bit of care.

The rookie trio all turned their eyes to see who was making such an entrance, and it was none other than Supah Dupah himself, standing proud and tall (though still not quite as tall as Fredrik), already walking his way over to their booth.

“Good, foods already cookin, showed up right on time.”

“Well, it was more like 20 minutes ago, but close enough I guess.” Demir replied as Supah sat down across from him.

“I had other important things to do, don’t worry about it.” The very subtle smell of cheap beer came from those words, betraying a little bit of pre-gaming.

“Very important, I’m sure.” The Italian rookie rolled his eyes a bit before taking in a bit of what he assumed was some sort of pickled vegetable… or mushroom?

The contrast of the four rookie seated at their booth was something of enjoyment to the fellow restaurant goers. One side of the booth managed to hold both Supah and Fredrik, without a doubt the tallest and second tallest person in the entire building. Meanwhile Demir and Ju-gong were both exactly 5’11, making the table almost feel like an uphill-downhill situation in terms of eye contact.

Taking absolutely no time to acquaint himself with any of the strange sides scattered around, Supah began pounding a glass of ice water with malicious intent. Within a matter of no more than seven or eight seconds, the Pittsburgh native downed the entire glass and unceremoniously slammed it down onto the table, shaking all those tiny little plates to their tiny little cores.

“Do they have any beer? Never been here before.”

“Just soju, would you like it?” Ju-gong still seemed rather pleased with everything, happy to see another rookie make it to their Christmas Eve dinner.

“Nah, I’ll get something later.” Supah noted another glass of water next to his chopsticks and turned to Fredrik. “Can I have that if you’re not thirsty?”

“That’s your glass… so by all means.” Upon inspection, it was rather clear to see that the American had, in fact, downed his teammate's glass instead of his own.

“Woops, sorry about that.” Supah said half-heartedly as he began to drink down some of his own water without much concern.

With another warm smile, Ju-gong went ahead and slid his own glass of water over to Fredrik. He didn’t drink water during a meal anyway, if anything, tall dinner glasses was some North American novelty to him.

Demir watched in horror as the extra-late arrival began to pick up pieces of pork from the grill barehanded and tossed those cuts of meat straight into his mouth – as if eating bacon straight off the frying pan. Slightly shook, he gave a confused look around, and began putting the rest of the pork onto the grill.

“So uh… Lukas was too busy to make it in time?” He finished displacing the rest of the meat before putting the plate down for the waiter to come collect and replace.

“Said he already had other plans, but we can maybe get drinks later tonight!” Ju-gong scooped up a few dozen mushrooms with his chopsticks, already well aware that he’d be eating 90% of them based on his teammate’s preferences.

No one was too surprised about Lukas, as far as anyone knew, the man showed up to games and practices, performed like a man possessed, and then disappeared off for a night of bars and clubs. He was an unusual figure to say the least, but given how many shutouts the rookie from Czechia was putting up, everyone assumed it was best to let him do his own thing.

“Clubbing no doubt, what a stud, gotta respect that lifestyle.” Supah seemed to nod in some deep appreciation as he used the metal tongs to very purposefully scoop the mushrooms away from himself and towards the smiling Korean in the corner. Despite having only been seated for a few minutes time, a grain of rice had already managed to lodge itself into that finely trimmed handlebar mustache.

“Well, I guess I’ll shoot him a text, it’s Christmas Eve afterall.” Demir took a break from grill duties to start tapping away at his cell phone.

By the time he put his phone back down, the pork had been entirely eradicated from the grill, leaving only enoki scattered about. Given how the waiter had yet to collect their old plate, they’d probably be waiting a few minutes before any good stuff would be cooking again. This mattered for everyone except Ju-gong, who was more than happy to sample all the different sides in rice and keep munching away. Demir was the most willing to try the unknown sliders, and even then, he had a few concerns about some of the options.

“I sure hope you all ordered a lot more, that hardly counts as an appetizer.”

“Yeah, Ju-gong did a big order.”

“Great, what’s next?” Supah looked between the other rookies, unsure who had the plan. When he made eye contact with Fredrik, he received the same clueless shrug he gave Demir earlier. It took a second to process where the confusion could be, but upon looking over some mysterious black paste sitting on one of the plates next to him, he too nodded in acceptance. Asking the joyful Korean wouldn’t be any help here. “Well worst case there’s a place a few blocks from here that makes some good burgers.”

Fredrik began sipping away at his newly acquired drink, “I’m surprised you’ve learned downtown so quickly, Demir can’t go 50 meters without getting lost.”

To that, Supah simply raised an eyebrow in confusion, “What on earth is a meter? All I know is any place worth knowing, and those places have good food and good drinks.”

As much as Demir wanted to complain, he really did hate trying to navigate around here - and even more importantly, the spiced beef was being served at that very moment. With eager hands, the Italian rookie began placing down their new entrée to start sizzling. The more he used the metal tongs the better he got, and could more accurately place the cuts of meat to avoid overlapping with the mushrooms – a very important task.

Generally with the group together at Denny’s, talking about the latest win was an easy conversation. However, in this case the team was coming off a fresh 1-2 loss at the hands of Carolina, a game in which they led in shots 42-20. No one at the table had done anything remarkable in the loss and couldn’t even compliment an assist from the night. The game before that? Well that was even worse, any talk of that would only draw annoyed glares. Indeed, it was such a rare skid that prompted Ju-gong to invite the rookies out for a Christmas Eve dinner, a little group activity among fellow draftee’s and a small pick-me-up before games resumed in a few days’ time.

“Make sure to take these off fast when they cook. Sticks to grill very easily.” Ju-gong advised the group, as if they didn’t have every intention of picking that metal plate clean the second they could.

“Don’t need to tell me twice!” Fredrik had a pair of tongs in hand as well. Meanwhile, Supah had his… hands in hand waiting eagerly too.

When Ju-gong gave the all-ready, it was absolute carnage. Tongs fighting and ripping cuts of beef as they battled to load their own plates. Supah flinging the steaming meat right into his mouth in a savage but efficient style. It was nothing short of an actual bird of prey ripping apart its dinner, a sight that made the group of them look like qualified owls in their own right. While the scene wasn’t pretty by any means, Ju-gong still enjoyed seeing his fellow rookies eat with such vigor. He slowly picked away at what he could, taking his sweet time in a situation that offered very little.

“Come to Busan one day, I can show you all many places even better than this!”

“Oh I will, just you-…”

“Excuse me.” Sneaking up from behind, a woman in her early twenties approached from another table. She was quite the looker, and she had both eyes centered on the chewing Italian with a bit of nervous excitement “I’m sorry, but are you Demir Bellona?”

The entire group exchanged glances with one another, as even Demir seemed to be caught off guard from the approach.

“Ciao, yes I am, what can I do for you?”

Her face lit up like she had leaned over the grill too far, suddenly looking much more tense and excitable about the situation. Reaching into her violet handbag, she began to frantically look for something inside. What she pulled out was a Christmas wrapped gift and a black sharpie pen. The group was slightly dumbfounded that this woman might be gifting him something, but instead, she ripped open the gift in a matter of moments, and quickly pulled out a newly purchased QCC jersey with the tag still attached.

“Me and my sister are the biggest Citadelles fans! I was getting her this as a Christmas gift, but I know she’d love it even more if I could get your signature on it. I uh, hope you don’t mind.~” She passed Demir both items as the others watched on in a very sacred silence.

Now fully keen on the situation, the young rookie gave a smirk, and graciously accepted both the jersey and the pen to sign it. Popping off the cap, he had a smug grin on his face as he signed away on the back of the nameless jersey, eating up the spotlight of the moment like a buffet. Once done, he lidded the sharpie once more, passed each item back to the young woman, and gave a little wink to send her nervous heart into overdrive.

“Thank youuuuu!” And just like that, the woman retreated back to her table with a huge smile on her face, quickly bragging to the friends in her party.

Turning back towards the group, the grin of delight was nowhere near washed away from his face, the Italian defenseman totally buzzing from the moment of fame and attention. During the whole interruption, only Ju-gong had continued picking away at their meal, the other two towering figures looking down on the smug player with amused, but annoyed expressions.

“Sorry gentlemen, the people here just love me, I’ve been getting that since the day I arrived.” While clearly cocky, he wasn’t wrong, Demir was for one reason or another, by far the biggest name from the new group of rookies – and not just because he went one overall. Still, the fact that she didn’t bat an eye at any of the other three was a sight to behold, especially for the “biggest” Citadelles fan around.

Supah looked over to Fredrik in curiosity, “How many autographs do you think you’ve signed since being here?”

“Well, they made me stay after a game last month to sign things for fans, so probably a few hundred. Outside of that? Maybe two dozen? What about yourself?”

The American gazed out the window into the dark, cold world outside, “Less than that, I know that for sure.”

Bzzzzt.

Vibrating against the table, Demir looked down at his phone as a reply from Lukas arrived. After a moment of reading, his eyes went wide with fear, and right away he started tapping away in haste.

Demir (19:44) – Hope you’re having a great Christmas Eve Lukas, if you’ve got time, we could come get a drink with you later?
Lukas (19:53) – I’m good thanks. Got a group I might have to put in their place, but shouldn’t be a problem.
Demir (19:54) - ???
Demir (19:54) – Don’t get in a fight man, no way it’s worth it!
Lukas (19:54) – A bunch of fake fans blaming Song for the last two losses. I’m about to teach these [redacted] a bit of respect.
Demir (19:55) – It’s okay man chill! Where are you???
Lukas (19:55) – I’m at La Pub Saint Sais Boire if you want to come see a show. Don’t tell the coaches.

“Guys we have to go, like now.” Demir started to shove his phone down into his pocket while simultaneously tugging at his winter coat behind him.

“Huh? What happened?” Ju-gong was the first to reply, very nervous, but also reaching to collect his things in response.

“Lukas is about to give the business to a few drunks over at Le Pub San Boar. God, where even is that place?”

Now apprised of the situation, both Supah and Fredrik began to copy the other two, collecting their phones, wallets, and prepping to go back into the freezing cold outside. Supah looked the most riled up, giving a half serious glare to Demir throughout. “What did you say the place was?”

He checked his phone again, “La Pub Saint Sai Boar?”

“It’s Saint Sais Boire, Mr. Celebrity.”

“Whatever it’s French, do you know where it is?”

“Of course I know,” Supah pulled his coat down along his chest to dramatically fit it into place. “They have the best cheese fries in the whole city.”

A long, awkward silence followed that comment as Fredrik let out a low, tortured sigh. However, they quickly acted as if nothing happened, and began exiting the booth. As all four rose to their feet, Ju-gong pushed his way to the front, pulling out a Woo-ri bank credit card and making a dash towards the waiter. Walking up to him, he said something in Korean, gave the man his credit card, and then proceeded to head towards the group. Quite literally leaving a total stranger with full access to his massive bank account in a gesture perhaps only possible within his culture.

Something of a de facto leader, Demir led the group to the door and shoved it wide open into a torrent of cold air that felt like it could freeze the skin of their noses. The Florence native almost instinctively pulled a 180 to retreat back inside, but the giants following behind him would’ve made it impossible to escape. Now back into the arctic weather of winter in Quebec, Demir took three steps right, stopped, turned left, before throwing his arms up in annoyance as he looked at a French street sign.

“Why am I leading? Supah, where is this place?”

“I could tell you... but… would that help?”

“Just lead the way!”

Rather casually, the American started to tread forward, followed closely by Fredrik. Somewhat unsurprisingly, the rookies from Pittsburgh and Tromsø didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the bone chilling wind around them. The same could not be said for the warm weather duo, far more used to beach life if anything. Demir and Ju-gong huddled close behind their taller teammates, using them as wind breakers to help survive the perilous five-minute walk down the stone streets of old downtown Quebec City.

As they passed a number of buildings, Supah would occasionally talk about the kinds of foods and drinks they had. Places that were awesome, places that were down-right-crap, and everything in between. If not for the soul siphoning cold weather, it could’ve been a rather pleasant and enjoyable stroll down a historic city, but as is, half of the rookie group were quickly losing feeling in their ears and toes.

Around a few lamp lit roads, the group closed in on this legendary pub, only to see a familiar figure appear before them just outside.

“Lukas! You look good, I take it things went well?” Fredrick was the first to meet his gaze.

With a dead serious stare, the goaltender curled his hand into a fist, and wrapped his other palm around it to keep it warm. “No, we’re taking this down to the Lawrence, no interruptions.”

“Where’s the other group?”

“Already waiting down there, I just had to finish my drink.”

Lukas walked between all four of them, heading straight towards a small trail that led down to a park by the river. It went without saying, that all four of them could tell just how much alcohol was on his breath by scent, almost giving them all a second hand shot off the fumes alone. Still, his silhouette was determined and focused, even as he half stumbled forwards at times.

With a few quick steps to catch up, the tall Norwegian reached out and grabbed at Lukas’s right shoulder, trying to slow down his unsteady march forward. “It’s fine Lukas, those drunks aren’t worth your time, let’s go back and have a drink. Forget them.”

Surprisingly, the hardcore Czech stopped in their tracks. It seemed hearing those words from a teammate in person made a bigger difference. Lukas gave a slow nod, thinking over his choices. Perhaps standing up to a few drunks wasn’t worth the risk of getting in trouble. Despite the vodka pumping through his veins, he was a pretty reasonable guy.

However, another hand reached up, this time it was Supah grabbing onto his left shoulder. Feeling the hand of another teammate holding him back, Lukas turned to look at Supah to see what wisdom he had in this situation.

“Go show them what’s up Lukas. We’ve got your back.”

The drunk nodded in deep approval, using that new resolve to push forward and continue his march onto that dirt trail down to the river.

No more than a second later, Fredrik looked over to Supah with an annoyed and baffled expression. Putting his clasped hands forward in a desperate gesture that he picked up from watching his Italian friend.

“Why… why would you say that?”

“It’s a pride thing, besides, we gotta stick up for our boy Ju-gong, ain't that right?”

Ju-gong sneezed in the background, he and Demir nearly touching side to side, both trying to maintain as much passive warmth as possible. The temperature was only getting colder by the minute, and neither of them were dressed, or conditioned, to be wandering about in such elements.

“Fine, let’s make this quick.”

Reluctantly on the same page, both Supah and Fredrik moved forward in time to follow Lukas down that forest trail. Watching their drunken friend stumble down the trail, tripping on roots and rocks put some serious doubts in their minds, but nonetheless they supported their teammate on his quest forward. It was dark, treacherous, and danger was waiting ahead. None of this mattered to the two frozen corpses slowly following from behind, each breathing hot air into their hands to keep feeling alive in their fingers.

Down at the clearing on the banks of the St. Lawrence river, Lukas emerged from the wooded area to confront three other grown men waiting beside the running water. The location was nothing less than one of those old-fashioned dueling grounds, only the pistols missing from the scene - and a whole lot less sun to paint the picture.

Taking one last stumble, Lukas approached all three of them alone, the other four rookies watching from just behind the tree line.

“Gonna take back what you said?” The Czech goaltender continued to warm up his fist as he waited only a few paces away from them.

The front man of the group of three was a bearded man in his 30s, wearing a retro Canada jersey from 15 years ago. He carefully stepped forward, clearly just as drunk and agitated as his adversary.

“I ain't got nothing to take back. That Song fella doesn’t have what it takes for this league. Leading the league in OTL? We’d be better off without him.” He grunted, managing to slur only a few of his words.

“Yeah!” A voice from behind him chimed up “If he didn’t have Roze and Jagrbomb, that dude would be bleeding goals left and right, send him back to Korea and get us a real player!”

Lukas simply nodded his head with his eyes closed, listening to the three of them throw out whatever negative comments their minds could find in the moment. He seemed rather poised, only once tilting his head to the side and spit into the cold ground. From back in the tree’s it was hard to tell exactly what he was up to, both Supah and Fredrick – and even the other two - ready to rush out if the need arrived.

“Uh huh” he grinded his foot into the ground as if he was putting out a cigarette… or trying to keep balance, it was hard to tell. “You sure like to act like you know what it’s like being a goalie. How about you stop giving these stupid stats, and tell me what you know about the player, how hard he works, how important he is as a friend to the team?”

The front man was a bit too drunk to stop himself from laughing out loud, wiping away fake tears as he scoffed at the notion. “Who gives a rat? Compared to how many shots he faces, his plus/minus is-“

It all happened so quickly that all six sets of eyes watching didn’t realize what happened until it was over. In one swift motion - something almost right out of a boxing movie - Lukas lunged forward, and landed a cold fist right to the side of the drunk’s chin. There was total silence as the heckler dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. A gust of cold wind blew around, the moon illuminating Lukas like some final boss ready to destroy anything that stood in his way.

“No one gives a damn about plus/minus.”

With the fear of god in his eyes, the drunken man scrambled backwards, and as if fleeing for his life, turned tail and booked it back into the tree line. His two companions quickly followed suit, as they tripped and tumbled their way back to the shadows in defeat.

There was another long pause as Lukas simply stood over the ground like he owned it, taking a deep sigh of satisfaction, before turning and walking back to the hideout where the other four rookies were watching in awe.

“My man! You are one groovy dude!” Supah reached out to fist bump their friend as he returned.

“It was nothing.” Even now he didn’t smile, always looking like a man on a mission, “Just cleaning up some trash.”

The moment of triumph lasted for all but a half dozen seconds, as Fredrik interrupted with a concerned look, “I hate to ruin the moment, but these two look like they might turn into popsicles any moment now.”

Indeed, both Demir and Ju-gong were shivering away, both in total silence outside of the occasional sneeze and chattering of their jaws.

Lukas looked at them both and nodded in agreement, “Let’s get them back up to the bar, I know just the vodka to warm our friends back up.”

With that, all five of the QCC rookies made their way away from the river, through the woods, and back to La Pub Saint Sais Boire for some tonic’s that made shots of fireball feel like a chaser. The quintet enjoyed the rest of their Christmas Eve, only parting ways once a night full of cheese fries and laughter-filled memories were created. The legendary evening was only dampened by both Ju-gong and Demir getting sick from the cold night air. Which was further dampened when they managed to get several other players sick at training two days later. Which perhaps played some part in QCC losing the rest of their games to finish off the calendar year. Otherwise, all’s well that ends well!

Thanks for reading!
(5,279 Words, holiday media post)

*NaomiMannequeen* · 12-24-2023, 08:12 PM

A fantastic read!!! Really well written and enjoyable read. I hope Lukas doesn't get suspended for a few games though @.@ He did beat up a dude, but glad to see the rookie class sticking up for each other! <3

Kalakar · 12-24-2023, 08:21 PM

That was amazing lmao you're a great writer

vic03 · 12-25-2023, 12:09 AM

12-24-2023, 07:47 PMPuppy Wrote: “No one gives a damn about plus/minus.”

Wait what…… Confused

Great media!

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