The kiss of death

[jRuutu 2,502]

 

Restaurant somewhere in Moscow. Star defender Jillian Woods along with the rest of the Menace players, coaches, and management are enjoying a team dinner, a tradition that takes place at least once a month. Once everybody was seated around the long table, Jillian Woods started to walk towards general manager Euron Leonidas who offered his left hand with the S94 Continental Cup ring glistering on his little finger, as tradition goes, Jillian kissed the ring and asked for a moment of Euron's time. Euron was in a good mood and instructed Jillian to share what they had in mind. Jillian started to speak about the future and different changes that might have an effect on and off the ice, Jillian finished by stating: "I plan on max-earning for the remainder of this career. Maybe the odd pension here or there, but I have no intentions of letting Woods fall flat."

 

Everybody around the table was now silent, they had turned towards Euron and Jillian to hear what was being discussed, you could almost see the words of Jillian Woods bounce around in the air, from one wall to the other. Euron looked towards Jillian and said: "All I got out of this was Woods is going to keep Woods-ing. Hope life doesn't beat you up too badly, good luck with the endeavors!".  The kiss of death. To the untrained eye the look on Euron Leonidas' face was a mix of surprise and disappointment, but behind the surface calculations for potential trade partners were already finished. Euron Leonidas had been in the league for too many years to let feelings interfere with business, and that business is Moscow Menace.

 

Around the table, the seasoned players looked at each other. No words were said, no gestures were made, not even a wink. The seasoned players knew what was about to come. Stormy seas are ahead, and the boat is going to be shaken, one of the sailors has a small cut on their leg, they and few others will fall from the boat to the water, there are sharks in the water. Who is going to get eaten? Is it going to be just the sailor with the small cut?

 

For the rest of the dinner, Euron Leonidas was deep in thought. Euron looked around the table as they ate, each zip of red wine appeared to bring clarity to the future, each bite from the reindeer stake appeared to solidify a player's position in the team, each scoop from the chocolate soufflé appeared to bring a new trade idea. The seasoned players were reserved. They did all they could to avoid bringing attention to themselves. They focused on their meal, perhaps thinking about what Euron might see on television next week as Euron famously wants to eat whatever he sees on television. Perhaps they were also thinking about the ongoing playoffs against Davos. Usually, the team dinners have limited discussions on hockey as the point is to get together and have a bonding experience as people, as work colleagues. This time around there was pressure in the air, which kept discussion at minimum, almost as if it's going to rain soon, almost as if a storm is coming.

[Victor 11,113]

It's a cut-throat organisation.

[Spartan 4,615]

[jacobcarson877 2,602]