It was easy enough making the transaction, now I just had to avoid the loud mouthed, troublemakers who don’t serve any useful purpose. Seems one of them is in here sprouting something like the uninteresting thing that he is. It’s not like he’s any good at this.

Must be such a sad pathetic little life.

Crazy is crazy after all.

Fortunately, they were inconsequential, completely irrelevant and nothing that they said mattered. Not even in the slightest. It was too bad that they had to tie up their entire personality in following someone else around, constantly worrying about what they’re doing. That falls back to the sad pathetic life, though.

I made a stop at the concessions stand, ordering myself a beer. Might as well celebrate with one while I was still in the arena.

Hey, Paul_Finch and @Malcoln-Tucker - want to buy a stadium with me? 

After arriving at the stadium and collecting the Briefcase from JamesBaxter, I made my way to the nearest exit, keeping a low profile as I walked out into the bright lights of the city. The sounds of the game faded behind me as I made my way down the street, my heart racing with the thrill of the exchange. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in my work, knowing that I was one of the few people in this city who could pull off something like this.

But as I walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. I looked over my shoulder, trying to see if anyone was following me, but all I saw were the usual crowds of people making their way to the game. I shrugged it off, telling myself that it was just my nerves getting the better of me.

But as I reached the corner of the street, I saw a shadowy figure emerge from the alleyway. He was dressed in a black suit, his face obscured by the shadows. My heart raced as I realized that this was it, that I was finally going to face the consequences of my actions.

But as the figure approached, I was surprised to see that he was smiling. He handed me a envelope, telling me that I was one of the best at what I did and that my services were needed again. I opened the envelope, finding a set of instructions for my next job. I looked up at the man, realizing that he was a part of a secret organization that only worked with the best.

And as I walked away, feeling the adrenaline rush through my veins, I couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning. I was ready for whatever came my way, ready to become the best in the game.

Ian stepped out of the taxi and looked up at the imposing red brick walls of "The Old Red Barn". He had heard so much about the arena, and he couldn't wait to see it for himself. He knew that it had served as the home of the Detroit Red Wings, as well as hosting numerous boxing matches and professional wrestling events.

As he made his way to the entrance, Ian couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The building was even more grandiose than he had imagined, and he couldn't believe that he was about to step inside.

As he walked through the doors, the sound of cheering and applause hit him like a wave. The arena was already filled with fans, all eagerly awaiting the start of the game. Ian made his way to his seat, taking in the sights and sounds around him.

The capacity of 15,000 was impressive, and Ian knew that the arena was only exceeded in size by Madison Square Garden in Manhattan and the Olympia London stadium in West Kensington, London. He felt a sense of pride that such an impressive arena was located in his city of Detroit.

As the game began, the energy in the arena was electric. The sound of skates slicing across the ice and the cheers of the crowd filled the air. Ian watched as the players raced back and forth across the rink, feeling a sense of excitement that he hadn't felt in years.

As the game came to a close, Ian left the arena feeling energized and exhilarated. The experience had been everything he had hoped for and more, and he knew that he would always remember his visit to "The Old Red Barn".

Hockey was Sarcasm's favourite form of entertainment - and it was an absolute no brainer to come and see the old Olympia while he was in town doing business.  Gordie Howe and Red Kelly were among the all time greats, not to mention Terry Sawchuk - and Sarcasm couldn't wait to go and see them.

Sarcasm lined up in the long snaky line and waited for his turn to buy his ticket. Maybe he'd even get to see a Gordie Howe Hat trick.  

He purchased his ticket and entered the arena with glee.  His first task was to get to the beer station.

“You have to do something about Boom Boom.” I stood with my arms crossed leaning against the wall beside the door in the Montreal Canadians’ suite inside the Detroit Olympia, across from the Montreal General Manager and their head trainer. I was referring to Bernie “Boom Boom” Geofrrion, Montreal’s twenty-year-old superstar defenseman. He had been tearing the league apart, quite literally, earning the nickname “Boom Boom”.

”You know what is going to happen if this continues.” I went on, disregarding the ghost-like looks on their faces. “You made your bed, Sir.” I tried to be as respectful as possible. No one needed to be pushed to the edge.

At least not yet, anyway.

”I, uh, I, uh…” the General Manager stuttered before letting out a resigned sigh. He knew that his options were gone and he was in way over his head at this point. “Ok.”

That was the voice of someone who had given up.

”So, this is how this is going to go.” I pushed off the wall with a little more confidence that I didn’t have a moment ago. Reaching for the chair, I pulled it slightly askew from the desk and sat down, making sure that I could see everyone in the room as well as the only door in or out of the place.

There was no reason to take any chances now.

”He can’t be in the lineup.” I continued as I sat comfortably in the chair, “I don’t care what you have to do or what you have to say to make it happen but…” I paused for a brief moment, “It is going to happen. That’s on you to figure out. In all honesty, it’s none of my business. What is my business, however,” I leaned forward in the chair, resting my elbows on my knees as I held eye contact, “is that if you don’t follow through, on your promises mind you, what size hole to dig and where. Now, I’ll tell you the truth,” I leaned back in the chair, softening my stance slightly, “There are about a hundred other things I’d rather do than dig a hole and then drag you into it so, how about we skip that whole part? You do what you said you would and we all go our separate ways. No muss, no fuss. No one needs to disappear.”

I let my last word hang in the air.

Cold, calculated, terrifying.

It took a moment before the color returned to his face and he nodded in agreement without saying anything.

It was pretty safe to say that he got the message. It was just a matter of how far he was willing to go to avoid that hole that I didn’t want to dig.