Ice Bat Instigator

Somehow, I neglected to mention that I picked up a hockey puck at the Ice Bats agame over the weekend. The Ice Bats are Austin's minor league hockey team, and my sworn enemy. I believe I already wrote about the source of my hatred for them (too lazy to search), but it stems from being assaulted by their mascot after a game last year. Apparently the Austin Ice Bats operate much like North Korea, in that if you share any sympathy with the opposing side, a goon dressed in a bat suit tries to engage you in a slightly-too-intense game of grab ass.

Following that incident, I made a pledge on Octopussy's litter box that the next time I went to one of their games, the disrespect would be repaid ten-fold: I would scream profanity at their players, spill my drink on those in neighboring seats, and take up two parking spots. I'd be like a viking berserker at that place, taking no prisoners and leaving nothing in my wake but debris and the sobs of my foes. I didn't act right away, though. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I waited until Saturday to dish up a fat, icy chunk of it.

Adding insult to injury, not only did I engage in all of the above behavior, but I also took a puck home. I giggle just thinking about it. Not only will their inventory forever be one puck off, but I imagine they'll soon have to cancel the rest of the season due to lack of pucks. Oh, is the egg ever on the face of their mascot now! Please, Mr. Mascot, continue shooting breakdancing on the ice and shooting off your t-shirt cannon. However, once you put me in a headlock and then aggressively nuzzle me, a line has been crossed. You have then besmirched my masculinity and I will retaliate accordingly. Yes, that includes puck theft, Geneva Convention be damned. If you don't like that, you can stroll on down to Powell Manor and attempt to reason with me. Beware the flying puck, however.