Chapter 324: Joey XV—And the Mess continues
…which landed squarely on the edge of Patrick’s jaw. Joe jumped out of his seat and he felt a surge of adrenaline in his veins as the goalie fell backwards out of his chair and onto his bottom.
“Son of a bitch!” Joe heard someone yell.
Patrick narrowed his eyes, dripping wet with beer and red cheeked, and not wasting a moment, he snapped to his feet and grabbed Pelletier by the throat. Oh hell this was gonna get outta hand! “Patty, Patty you don’t need to…”
Patrick punched Pelletier on the cheek eliciting a scream from the focal point of this mess, Jamie Sale. Patrick let go of David who seemed stunned and he fell to his knees blinking. Out of the corner of his eye, Joe could see Jamie had grabbed a beer bottle which she swung back to smash on Patrick’s head from behind. “Watch it!” Joe yelled as he jumped over the table and wrapped his arms around Jamie’s petite body. He lost his balance and she screamed when he fell on top of her, the beer bottle falling from her hand.
“You okay?” Joe gasped, feeling horrible that his full weight had just crushed this tiny woman’s fragile body. Jamie’s eyes seemed black with rage and she spit. Joe closed his eyes and rolled off her wiping away the saliva.
“You bastard!” Someone yelled. Joe squinted where he lay and he saw the two Russian skaters were on Patrick, one slugging at his back and one pinned underneath from the front.
“David!” Jamie screamed and she threw her arms around her boyfriend. Joe glared at them, the cause of their troubles for the night.
Joe felt his side twinge with a sharp pain. He stood up and staggered to Patty’s aide, pulling at the shoulders of the man on his back. “Stop it we don’t need a fight!” He growled, hoping that one of them would hear him and see the logic.
“Eat me!” The Russian man growled and he turned and Joe gasped at the force of a punch that grazed off the side of his throat. Briefly suffocated, Joe fell to his bottom on the floor and he watched helplessly as Dan Hinote appeared from nowhere, raining a hail of retribution in fists to the pretty face of the Russian skater.
“You don’t hit our captain!” Dan roared.
“Gah!” Joe gasped as he stood up. He lurched forward and pushed Dan’s Russian to the ground and he looked at Hinote. “Dan stop it, I don’t want to inflame this… WOAH!” Joe felt an exploding pain in his calf and he lost his balance. His bottom roared in agony when he hit the floor to see a new man had joined this fight, a slim, muscled, pale man who had to be another figure skater. The man’s eyes widened with what seemed to be fear and Joe growled in anger when the young man kicked him.
“Goebel!” Pelletier yelled. “Timothy! Stay out of it, you’ll get hurt!”
The man, Timothy Goebel looked at Pelletier and held out his arms and that’s when Joe watched in horror as he was attacked from behind by Mike Modano. “You little punk!” Modano snarled as he pushed Timothy down. “Keep your hands off Joe!”
“Mike!” Joe yelled. “Don’t!”
Modano looked at him and that’s when Goebel took the opportunity to kick him in the shins. “Christ!” Modano then fell to the ground and he pounced on the prone Goebel. The two didn’t seem to be throwing punches so much as they rolled and scuffled, cursing and pawing at each other. The sight reminded Joe of a scene from a dinosaur movie when a T-Rex mauled a much smaller prey item to its death. David Pelletier jumped into this tangled mess, aiding the clearly outmatched Goebel.
“I said stop it!” Joe roared as he stumbled to his feet. “STOP IT!” All too late, however, as the powder keg had clearly been ignited past all remedy. His palms trembled and he felt a momentary spell of deaf disbelief as he watched a fresh wave of male figure skaters run into the fracas, followed by the rest of his own teammates, all who had glittering eyes of death and destruction.
Joe ran his tongue over his lips and backed away slowly from the growing tangle of writhing fighters. He noticed, to his instant irritation that Jamie’s camera crew circled the fight like a group of bottom feeding fish, sliding in and out as they filmed every detail of the action. When one of the cameras seemed to be pointed at him, Joe shook his head and looked away. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of flashing them an obscene gesture or trying to impede their filming….
Heh… that was a job better left to someone else….
“Blake!” Joe barked as Rob Blake easily batted off two of the male figure skaters.
“Yup?” Robbie replied, his tongue hanging out like a dog’s, a smile on his face.
“Make those cameras go away,” Joe ordered.
Rob grinned and rolled up his sleeves. “Yes, Captain!”
Joe shoved his hands in his pockets and he began to circle away from the fight to bar entrance. No doubt the police would be there soon, and he knew he at least needed to be their to give a rational account. “Woah!” Joe leaned back from a flying beer mug that almost clipped the tip of his nose. He heard it crash into a wall or table or onto the floor.
Women’s screams became more frequent as did the sound of breaking furniture and glass. Each passing moment translated into higher property damage and more publicity that would not be possible to explain away. He could hear nasal twanged protests from the camera men and he saw them begging helplessly for their cameras back as Keaner and Robbie held them at arms reach, taunting and laughing. One cameraman remained intact and he had his camera filming at another corner of the room.
Joe put his hands on his hips at the when he got to the doorway and he surveyed the ensuing carnage. It had escalated to the point now where the women skaters were also trying to join in the fray. They looked like helpless, bony little cats as they threw their tiny bodies valiantly against the hockey players, some clawing and slapping and others swatting with purses and kicking. Joe narrowed his eyes. If so much as one of his men laid a violent hand on any of these girls he swore to God…… but no one seemed to be retaliating against the ladies only, grabbing them in benign bear hugs and setting them aside.
“Not much of a fighter eh Quoteless Joe?”
“Eh?” Joe
growled and he looked down at the pixie standing next to him. He recognized
this girl immediately as
“It’s not much of a fight to begin with,” Joe replied, “I don’t pick on those weaker than me, okay?”
Michelle grinned showing pearly, slightly uneven teeth. “Hey come on, Alexei seems to be holding his own pretty good, give him some credit.”
Joe lifted and eyebrow. “Which one is Alexei?”
“The blond guy duking it out with
Joe rubbed the sore spot on his throat and he saw Modano entangled in a duel with said Russian, Alexei Yagudin. The boy wasn’t as small as some of the other skaters, and he nimbly avoided punches from Modano whilst throwing his own. Finally, when Modano swung a punch, Alexei ducked and kicked him in the gut. Joe grimaced and Modano moaned and fell to his knees but as Alexei prepped to deliver the knockout blow Modano ducked that and grabbing a broken chair leg, he whacked Yagudin a retaliatory hit in the chest. The Russian squeaked and fell on top of Modano, they both seemed to have lost some consciousness.
“Eh well there goes that one,” Michelle muttered. “Hey I bet you a hundred bucks that Plushenko and who is that? Alex Tanguay? I bet you a hundred that neither of them will throw a punch!”
Joe laughed. “You’re sick!”
“Come on chicken!”
“Two hundred!” Joe replied and he crossed his arms in determination as he concentrated on the spat between Yevgeny Plushenko and Alex Tanguay, which seemed to be garnered mostly on the power of strong language and shoving.
“Come on kid…” Joe muttered. “Show some gall…”
“NO ONE SAYS THAT ABOUT MY MOMMA!” Tanguay roared and Plushenko had no time to breathe before little Alex clocked him one. Yevgeny fell to the ground blinking and clutching his chin.
“Rats!” Michelle snipped.
“That’s two hundred you owe me, kiddo.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Michelle grumbled, “I’ll send it to your room. Woah hey lookit Sasha there! Oh shit!”
Joe felt a jolt in his system when he saw the tiniest figure skating girl, Sasha Cohen with a vase in arms, jump onto one of the tables and smash it over the head of Scott Parker who staggered back. Recovering within the instant, the Sheriff roared lustily and swung one might arm around her miniscule waist and he flipped her over his shoulder holding her aloft like a spoil of war.
“So why aren’t you out there helping out your brethren?” Joe asked unable to suppress a grin at the sight of Parker parading the kicking and squealing little Cohen around the bar.
“Are you kidding?” Kwan exclaimed. “I wanna look pretty in the morning I see Brad tomorrow. Besides I thought it would be useful for the cops if someone logical is left standing to explain to them what’s going on.”
Joe laughed.
“MATT!” Sasha screamed. “MATT! Please! Savoie save me SAVE ME SOMEONE!”
“Oh no!” Michelle exclaimed. “Savoie’s in there too? He’s gonna get eaten alive the poor thing.”
The man in question, Matt Savoie did indeed try to rescue Sasha. Joe grimaced at the sight of how painfully pale and wistful the young man looked as he ran at Parker battering at his chest with his fists. “Leave her alone or else!”
Parker guffawed and he dropped Sasha onto a table and he grabbed Savoie. “Come on cutie,” he growled and Matt screamed in octaves higher than Sasha’s as Parker swung him into the air and tucked him neatly under one arm.
“Oh poor Matt,” Michelle tutted.
“Eh Parker’ll treat him nicer than the girls,” Joe speculated.
Michelle laughed. “Oh God this is gonna be a mess. We have a show the day after tomorrow, no one’s gonna be close to remotely present….”
“Woah!” Joe exclaimed and he yanked Michelle out of the way of a beer glass that shattered in the doorframe where her head would have been.
“Thanks man…” Michelle gasped.
Joe shook his head. “This has got to stop now.” He frowned and looked around the room until he saw what he wanted. “Step into the hallway Michelle.” She obeyed and he put his fingers over the light switches. Without wasting anymore time, Joe turned them all off and drowned the entire barroom in absolute darkness, the only light coming through the swinging doors of the hallway.
The screams and yells died almost instantly along with the sound of scuffling and war. All that could be heard were the labored pants of the combatants, and a few whispers.
“All right!” Joe yelled. “We have things to do in the morning, all of us! We have a game and you have a performance, we need to get to bed, we want to avoid assault charges, we have to avoid bad press so I suggest for everyone’s sakes that when I turn on this light everyone immediately will calm down, help clean up this bar, help pay for damages and then get into our GODDAMN BEDS! Does anyone disagree?”
No answer came from anyone, someone coughed.
Joe turned on the lights and the bar illuminated in all of its destroyed glory. Chairs and glass lay broken and strewn across the floor, the smell of spilled liquor filled the air, and everyone stood panting and blinking, blood running down the faces of the men, the women only blushing and breathless. “Is everyone okay now?”
No one answered.
The doors opened and Michelle peeked in. “Damn Quoteless, you’re a sexy bastard when you yell.”
Joe rolled his eyes and Michelle stuck her tongue out playfully and gave him thumbs up.