Turbo Charged Talbot Topples the Bees

Bison 8 Bracknell Bees 2

18/1/20

Sometimes things are not what they appear. For example Ma Barker (that’s her above) was thought to be a ruthless criminal matriarch, the mastermind behind the infamous Barker-Karpis gang, responsible for a string of murders, robberies and kidnapping in Midwest America in the 1930s. After she was killed in a shootout with the FBI in 1935, J. Edgar Hoover described her as "the most vicious, dangerous, and resourceful criminal brain of the last decade”. It was all poppycock. She merely travelled with the gang and apparently couldn’t even plan breakfast let alone a criminal enterprise. And so, as the Bracknell Bees took to the ice last night they looked like a strong competitive hockey team. Alas appearances deceived and they turned out to be the poorest team we have seen at Planet Ice this season and were duly put to the sword by a rampant Bison. Make no mistake, dear reader, this really was as one sided as an arm wrestling contest between Mike Tyson and Mr. Burns.

P1 opened. It was not until 15:54 that Bison took the lead, thus suggesting that it might be end up a close game. Set up by Michal Klejna, Adam “Oh no not Jonesy” Jones laid lumber to rubber and sent the biscuit in a netwards direction. It was not quite an unstoppable Ooo Mr. Rigsby effort from Jones, but the puck seemed to go through the hapless netminder, Adam Goss, as if he was a ghost possessing incorporeal form. Back in 1986 Oasis told us not to look back in anger. On this occasion Goss did look back behind him, not in anger, but in Ooo Betty horror as the puck evaded his desperate reach back and trickled over the line. 1-0 Bison.

As P1 drew to a close Bison doubled their lead in a manner most unexpected. With 19:35 on the clock a maniacal blue paint scrambled in front of Goss developed. The puck squirted free to Tom “Wreck-it” Ralph in the slot. He chucked in a speculative lob through a crowd of players. Much to his very grave chagrin screened netman Goss suddenly became aware of the puck passing over his shoulder and into the net. How ghastly for the fellow. 2-0 Bison.

The period ended soon after and we moved into P2. Enter Sam “Turbo” Talbot, not to be confused with Cam Talbot, the Calgary Flames goaltender. On 27:24 good work on the boards by Ryan Sutton and Dangling Dick Bordowski resulted in Talbot getting a sight of goal at the hash marks to the right of Goss’s goal. He flicked his twig and the biscuit began its journey, not on the road to Damascus, but towards the Bees’ net. Surely Goss had it covered? He extended his right leg like an amoeba extending a pseudopodium, but alas his leg wasn’t long enough and the puck raced through the tiniest of gaps between post and pad and over the line. It was another moment of great hideousness for the netman. He had failed to stop 3 stoppable goals and the evening was turning into one of great beastliness for him. 3-0 Bison.

But all was not lost for the Dumbledores (that is actually a real word. Look it up – you’ll be surprised). They clawed one back on 36:58 with an unassisted backhanded snap shot from Zack Milton 3-1 Bison. And at that score the period closed.

P3 opened and what we saw was what the dictionary would define as “to break up into pieces, especially small fragments, to decay or disintegrate”. That word is crumble and that is exactly what the hapless, hopeless and helpless Bees did, much to the mortification of their fans, especially the “supporters of hockey” who defected from Bison to the Bees in the summer of 2018 (sorry to mention them – I have moved on, really). They must have wished for the plexi in front of them to steam up so they could be spared the sight of their team falling apart like a chair whose mortice and tenon joints have been attacked by Death Watch Beetle and is then sat on by a 40 stone sumo wrestler. Some of their ice heroes played like incompetent nincompoops, others like bungling dummkopfs and others still maladroit dullards. Some managed to behave like all 3 at the same time. We were treated to a 5 goal Bison blast.

On 43:18 we saw an odd man rush with Alex Sampford and Gordon “George” Norcliffe taking on a solitary D-man, who took on Sampford and managed to force him wide. But that is where the success story of the D-man ended as Sampford squeezed a centring pass past him and there to deflect the puck past a despairing netman was Bees reject Gordon, who raised his arms in triumph even though no-one else, players, officials, spectators, coaches, goal judge and food bar serving waifs, realised it was a goal. Suddenly Referee Jarvie, observing Gordon’s joyous celebration, noticed that the puck had indeed crossed the line. “Oh. I had better extend my right arm and point netwardsly with my flat hand,” he must have thought, as that is exactly what he did. 4-1 Bison.

A mere 37 seconds later Sean Norris, who bears a striking resemblance to Eminem, was set up by Klejna and Coach Tait at the hash marks away to the goaltender’s right. The rapper’s lookalike shaped to shoot. Back in 1967 Motown greats Junior Walker and the All Stars (that’s them below) recorded a song entitled “Shoot your shot”, which contained the lyrics “I say yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, shoot your shot, what I mean, I said yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, shake what you’ve got” Norris may not have shaken what he had, but he certainly did shoot his shot. The puck left the ice in a Jumping-Jehosophat-on-a-Pogostick manner and flew past Goss to bulge the stringbag behind him. The netminder must have been pleased with this one as it was the only goal of the 5 scored which he could legitimately claim he couldn’t have stopped. 5-1 Bison. On the subject of Junior Walker, have you ever wondered if there might be someone in this world called Senior Walker? Bet there is.

Twice in the game Michal Klejna had suffered nasty looking injuries, particularly the second time when he had to be helped from the ice by two team-mates with what looked like a serious leg injury. The loss of Klejna would have been as cataclysmic a disaster as the collapse of the suspension bridge over the Takoma Narrows in 1940. Why did it collapse? It was all due to aeroelastic flutter of course. The bridge distorted and swung like a skipping rope (see below) before collapsing. But Klejna is made of stern stuff and, not only did he return to the ice, but he also bagged a couple of goals to go with his couple of assists already scored. His first goal came on 49:41. But I jump ahead. Let’s return in time to 46:26. We suddenly noticed Josh Ealey-Newman hammering away at a prostrate Liam “Square Sausage” Morris as he lay prostrate in the blue paint. An undesirable situation for the former mentioned hapless chap was about to get even worse when he copped a total of 39 PIMs for slashing, roughing, misconduct and unsportsmanlike conduct. There were a few other things he could have done but didn’t e.g. butt ending, hooking and tripping, but his charge sheet did reflect a veritable cornucopia of villainy. Ever heard of Charlie Wilson? He was a Great Train robber and came to a sticky end in 1990, shot dead in a drug dealing dispute in Marbella. Ealey-Newman also came to a sticky end, albeit not as sticky as Wilson’s as he wasn’t shot, but he was ejected from the game. This was probably a good thing for the aforementioned errant youth as he must have welcomed the opportunity of sitting in solitude in the locker room with time to reflect on his misdeeds, which I am sure he will never repeat, having learned a salutary lesson, enabling him to embark on a journey towards enlightenment and redemption. With Morris copping a mere 2 minute minor for slashing, the Bees found themselves defending a 5 on 3 power play. This they did, but they failed to defend the 5 on 4 which followed, as I shall relate.

On 49:41 Coach Tait fired a centring pass to Klejna in the slot with an invitation to lay his lumber on it. Down came the Slovak chap’s stick to deliver a clapper of great purpleness. The biscuit left the ice and flew past Goss’s head like a projectile fired from an anti-tank PIAT gun (that’s one below), albeit with more accuracy. Again it was a goal Goss must have been pleased, almost joyous, about as he didn’t have a hope of stopping it. 6-1 Bison.

So you’re out walking in the woods. You come across a hornets’ nest. What shouldn’t you do? That’s right – don’t thrust a stick into it like the mutton headed nincompoop below.

 

Well stick a stick into a hornets’ nest, albeit a metaphorical one, was exactly what the visitors did. How? They scored a goal. Don’t ask me how it went in – it was all a bit of a mystery, even to the officials who had to gaggle together and discuss whether or not it was a goal. They eventually decided it was. Scorer Aiden Doughty assisted by Brendon Baird. 6-2 Bison.

The sheer effrontery of it all. How dare they score a goal. Within a minute Bison had shown the Bees why that hadn’t been a good idea, scoring two more goals within 30 seconds of each other to advance the scoreline to one even more reflective of their Ooo matron dominance. The first arrived on 58:08, again on the power play with B. Baird (not to be confused with his brother J. Baird, or Rabbits’ Foot Joe as he was known in these reports, on accounts of him being the most superstitious sportsman the world has ever seen) slashing Bayley Harewood. “Oi geezer! Get down the steps,” commanded Ref Jarvie and into the glasshouse went the indecorous blackguard to do his porridge. Jones to Tait to Klejna at the hash marks. The Slovak chap whipped in a wrist shot for his second of the night and again it must have been a gratifying experience for Goss as none of the last 3 goals were stoppable, at least not by him. He must have been filled with a warm glow inside, which obviated the need for Prozac and indeed booking an appointment on the analyst’s couch. 7-2 Bison.

Goss’s night was to get even better 30 seconds later as he again conceded an unstoppable shot, this time from Turbo Talbot, his second of the game. Brilliantly set up by Dangling Dick Bordowski, the talented youth whipped a wrist shot past the by now positively beaming goaltender. 4 goals in a row he couldn’t have stopped. He must have been on a bigger high than if he had just snorted a row of Charlie up his nostrils. 8-2 Bison.

I am sure Coach Sheppard did not share his netminder’s elation. Since time immemorial bluesmen have been singing the line “Going down to the station, catch the fastest train I see”. Such must have been the embarrassment of the coach, as he presided over this positively beastly display from his team, that going down to the station to catch the fastest train he could see in order to convey himself away from this scene of ineptitude and ignominy was exactly what he wanted to do. Or maybe he shared a sentiment with Errol Brown of Hot Chocolate fame, who, back in 1975 sang "I believe in miracles, you sexy thing." Not even Mr. Brown would have believed that the Bees could miraculously mount a comeback with 7 goals in the last 1 minute 22 seconds to snatch the game. And indeed they couldn’t and didn’t. The final buzzer sounded to bring the curtain down on this red raw flagellation. What one earth has happened to the Bees? Abominable, slipshod, godawful, ghastly, atrocious, bungling and unacceptable are all words which could be applied to them and their performance.

Top bananas were appointed. Top Bee was Zack Milton (well it had to be someone). Top Bison could have been anyone from Talbot, Klejna, Bordowski or Mettam, but was, in fact, 3 assists Coach Tait.

Klejna Hat-trick Condemns the Pirates to a Watery Grave

Bison 5 Hull Pirates 2

11/1/20

The Hull Pirates sailed into Basingstoke with new heavyweight signing Matt Bissonette of elite league fame and 3 of the top 7 points scorers in the league, namely Hewitt, Bonner and Chamberlain, with the intention of bashing up (Coach Hewitt’s terminology) the Hampshire icemen. But the reality was that you can’t win a game if you have a rubberoid goaltender and if your inept defence is all at sea, the latter being graphically illustrated by one of the worst empty net defenses I have ever seen. But I jump way ahead so let us return to the start of the game.

P1 opened and with only 1:10 on the clock Bison grabbed a go–ahead goal. Coach Tait took possession of the puck and bore down on goal. He surged forward with a velocity that would have impressed Usain Bolt, grace that Rudolph Nureyev would have admired, and determination that would have been applauded by a bull in a china shop, notwithstanding that bulls are incapable of clapping. The arena lights glinted off his shiny black helmet like the Sun’s ray off the waters of the Mississippi Delta (thanks for that image Paul Simon). Had he not been wearing one the lights would have glinted off his bald head. But he was, so his follically challenged dome remained unglinted off. Now came the first test of the game for Ashley Smith in the piratical net. Could he stop what was coming? Yes he could. He blocked the Tait shot, but, much to his very grave chagrin, the puck rebounded off his rubberoid form in a fashion most ghastly (for him) and there to sweep it over the line was Michal Klejna. Smith’s save percentage had gone from not applicable to 100% to 50% in the time it took to say Oooo Betty. 1-0 Bison.

The second goal was a completely different kettle of fish. No poaching of mackerel was involved for a start. But it was a goal of great beastliness for the Pirates as was the first. It started with a chunderous giveaway, a piece of hockey skill which lacked both skill and hockey. It was a veritable blunderous, bungling boo-boo perpetrated by an incompetent nincompoop. What happened? Well a D-man, passed the puck straight to Klejna, scorer of the first Bison goal, Bison’s best player and the player who was best capable of taking down the Pirates’ metaphorical trousers and giving them what for. Who was that D-man? I shall decline to name him for two reasons. Firstly, I would wish to spare the hapless chappie’s blushes and secondly, I don’t know who he was. What matters is that the Slovak fellow, now in possession of the biscuit, advanced in a netwards direction and then, with a twist of his wrists, unleashed a shot, which flew past the wretched netman and into the net before he could say “Blistering barnacles! I’ll see you hang from the highest yardarm, you swab” to the dumkopff D-man who had given the puck away in the first place. 2-0 Bison with only 3:18 gone.

Back in 1994 D-Ream told us that things could only get better and this the Pirates must have hoped was true. However, things got decidedly worse for them shortly after. On 8:25 Chris Wilcox heard a shrill blast from the referee’s Acme Thunderer. He must have been fearful that a 5 year stretch in Woomwood Scrubs was coming for his stick holding offence, the stick in question being someone else’s, not his own of course as that is perfectly legal. But no. Merely a 2 minute stretch in the penalty box awaited him. And he didn’t serve even that as he was out in less than a minute not for good behaviour but when Bison bagged another goal and thus brought to an end Wilcox’s punishment for his shameful deed. The power play was a joy to watch by all assembled including Wilcox I am sure with speed, passing and movement of breath-taking purple spectacularity, drawing the Pirates’ D this way then that until they were puffed out, confused and begging for mercy. Set up by Adam “Oh no not Jonesy” Jones, Coach Tait fired in a shot. Once again the infelicitous netman proved rubberoid and the puck went as loose as a goose. Sean Norris, ruthlessly pounced on it with the determination of a rodent control operative chasing a rabid stoat to deliver a fatal blow and sent it over the line. It was turning into a hooray-hotdog-hallelujah evening for Bison and a Prozac inducing one for Smith and his team-mates. 3-0 Bison.

P1 ended and P2 started. It was as if someone flicked a switch and out came a totally different Pirates team for the 2nd period. Could the team who had played in the 1st been left in the locker room and a new one come out for the 2^nd? Of course that’s nonsense as the spatially challenged visitors’ locker room just wouldn’t have comfortably accommodated 30-odd players, nor even 30 odd players.  But the Pirates had stepped up a gear and played like a totally different team for the 2nd period, in which they managed to pull back 2 goals. First on 29:53 Matt Bissonette found Matt Davies, who passed across goal so quickly that Bison netman Alex “Mittens” Mettam was completely pulled out of position. There at the back door was Bobby Chamberlain to fire home and spoil it being a Matt goal as he is a Bobby not a Matt (not even a Matt for a middle name, which is Colin by the way). 3-1 Bison.

“Well that seemed to work quite well,” thought the Pirates. “Why don’t we try it again?” And this they did, but with different personnel. On 31:26 Lee Bonner scored their second, an almost identical goal, with Jason Hewitt and David Norris acting as his assistants. 3-2 Bison.

There were no more goals in P2 and so into P3 we passed with the Pirates looking to continue their good form of P2 and snatch the game. Goaltender Smith was looking better and by 47:24 he hadn’t conceded a goal for 38 minutes of play. But he was still proving a trifle rubberoid, giving up a plethora of rebounds, and his propensity to do this was to prove his undoing once again. Josh Kelly, who shortly before had been knocked headfirst over the wall, an occurrence which resulted in much merriment from himself and his team-mates, set up Coach Tait and Klejna in an odd man rush, which for those not well versed in hockey parlance means an attack where the forwards of one team outnumber the defenders of the other, as opposed to being an attack delivered at great speed by an odd man. Once again Tait moved forward in a manner which belied his 44 years. No zimmer frame nor mobility scooter was required as he surged towards the Pirates’ goal with the quicksilver fleet footedness (yes that is a real word) of a man half his age. As the arena lights glinted off his skates like the Sun’s rays off a National steel guitar (that’s one below and thanks again Paul Simon), sinews strained, muscles pumped and perspiration broke out in an attempt to get to goal before the Pirates’ D-men could catch him. They couldn’t of course and he was left free to unleash a wrist shot. Goaltender Smith may have had a feeling of impending doom as the puck left the geriatric coach’s twig and flew towards him. But he need not have feared as he managed to save it. Alas for the beleaguered custodian, however, jubilation was to immediately turn to dejection, as Klejna smashed the rebounded biscuit past him sending his spirits spiralling downward into the bubbling, steaming quagmire of despair. 4-2 Bison and a hat-trick for the Slovak fellow. Zim-zam-zaramango.

The Pirates were fast entering the last chance saloon. With 1:18 left on the clock the signal was given and Smith skated maniacally from his crease as if his life depended on it. On came skater no. 6 and the Pirates sought to besiege the Bison goal and pull back the two goal deficit. But to be successful in this situation you need to keep the puck. Piratical attempts to achieve this were lamentable as the 6 marauding Pirates behaved like a bunch of beer league imbeciles in trying to keep the puck out of Bison hands. Their net became as bombarded as a coconut shy as Bison were presented with one empty net chance after another. Inaccurate shooting from the homesters saved the Pirate’s’ net until with 14 seconds left Jones and Tait combined to set up Ryan Sutton with a yawning mass of net as wide as the Grand Canyon to shoot at. He made no mistake. The biscuit left his twig and shot over the line for 5-2 Bison and fat lady singing.

All that remained was for the election the Top Bananas. Lee Bonner grabbed the pirates’ treasure chest (actually only a box of beers), whereas the Bison award went to Klenjna of course. The Pirates returned to the frozen wastes of the north suitably bashed up.

Late Bordowski Strike Spooks Bison's Ghostly Visitors

Bison 3 Peterborough Phantoms 1

4/1/20

This was to prove a game nearly spoiled by some of the most bizarre officiating you are ever likely to see. OK let’s not forget that if there were no men in stripes there wouldn’t be a game, but at the end of 60 minutes, I was left wondering whether a ref/lino team composed of Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, Louis Braille and Mister Magoo, could have done a better job. Calls made which shouldn’t have been, calls not made for blatant infractions, delays in blowing whistles and, according to one on ice source …. well I won’t say in case I get sued for libel. It all drove players, coaches and fans on both sides to the brink of tolerance that would have tested even the patience of Job. Never mind at least we had a game. So without further admonition, let us proceed to the game itself. I implore you, dear reader, to read on.

P1 opened and a flurry of penalties were called. One penalty the Bison backers did like was the slashing call on Bradley Bowering, not to be confused with Ross Bowers, who is someone completely different, on 13:06. They called for a hanging, but no rope (or indeed a tree) could be found. It was to be merely 2 minutes in the penalty box for Bowering to reflect on his conduct and hopefully emerge 2 minutes later a repentant and reformed character. He didn’t get the full 2 minutes as Bison bagged a power play goal whilst Bowering was in mid reflection, but hadn’t yet moved on to the penitence and reformation bits. Set up by Coach Tait, Adam Harding found himself in the slot with the biscuit on the end of his twig. Could he put it in the stringbag? The ghostly D showed as much resistance as a crouton which had gone soggy after soaking in a bowl of minestrone for half an hour. They didn’t seem interested in closing Harding down. “Let him have a shot. Jordan Marr will save it,” they thought. But such thoughts proved to be erroneous as Marr didn’t save it. The puck flew through the gap between Marr and post, causing the apparitional visitors profound dismay. 1-0 Bison.

P1 ended with no further scoring. It had been a strange period with 20 PIMs doled out and a shot count of 19-10 in the Phantoms’ favour, but with Bison holding the lead. Were we to see more of the same in P2? In terms of PIMs yes with 22 PIMs to Bison, including a 2 + 10 for boarding to Dangling Dick Bordowski, 4 PIMs to the Phantoms, a shot count of 12-6, again in the visitors’ favour, and a goal, but this time an equalising score on 29:03. It came on the power play with Coach Tait banged up for roughing. A goal mouth scramble ended up with the puck squirting wide and behind the net. James Ferrara worked it very quickly across the back of the goal and out front where an all alone Ales Padelek snapped home for a nicely worked goal. 1-1.

That was all the scoring for the period, so on 40:00 into P3 we passed and things went a bit cagey for a while. Neither team wanted to lose the game, which was balanced on a knife edge, just like the coach in the final scene of the Italian Job – see below.

Enter Bayley Harewood, showing a talent which belied his 16 years, to score a goal of great purpleness. How purple? More purple than Prince’s guitar - see below.

On 48:29 Harding had possession of the puck on the boards and was wondering what he could do with it. I hope you will allow me a soupçon of a digression here. Griffin was a scientist who has devoted himself to research into optics and invented a way to change a body's refractive index to that of air so that it neither absorbs nor reflects light and thus become invisible. He was, of course, the original Invisible Man from the 1897 novel of the same name by H.G. Wells. As Harewood jumped over the wall and made his way into the Phantoms’ defensive zone he might just as well have been Griffin as the ghostly D didn’t appear to see him at all. In fact, Harding may also have been unaware of the Harewood presence and he, Harewod that is, had to bang on the ice with his stick like a demented woodpecker to attract Harding’s attention. The ploy worked and Harding sent an Ooo Matron peach of a pass to the Harewood stick tape, one Welshman to another. Cymru am byth. He, Harewood that is, not Harding, moved forward unopposed, the arena lights glinting off his skates. The spectral D treated him as if he had bubonic plague as no-one wanted to go near him. They stopped short of shouting “Bring out your dead”, though. Suddenly Harewood, who had had all the time in the world to pick his spot, unleashed an unstoppable purple wrist shot and sent the puck like an angry hornet whizzing past a horrified Marr. If he had possessed an advanced sense of spatial awareness, the helpless and hapless Caledonian netman would have known immediately that it was a goal. If he hadn’t, the Krakatoa-esque explosion of the crowd may have given him a hint of what had happened behind him i.e. his net was bulging, the referee’s flat hand was out and pointing netwardsly and the goal judge had illuminated his red light like a lady of the night seeking business during a slack moment. Reflecting on the moments before this occurrence of monumental ghastliness for him, the wretched netman must have wondered why his D had turned into an inept bunch of dithering dummkopfs in front of him (or rather not in front of him). 2-1 Bison. By the way do you ever wonder if there is someone in this world called Hayley Barewood? The Reverend Spooner, inventor of the spoonerism, would have. (Who? You’d better Google him - there he is below).

The Phantoms pushed forward in search of a second equalising goal, but, as we entered the last minute, the poltergeists from Peterborough couldn’t find a way past a stellarly performing Alex “Mittens” Mettam in the Bison net – 38 shots, 37 saves. The East Anglian apparitions were entering the last chance saloon. Goaltender Marr expected to be pulled at any moment and kept looking at his bench for a signal. But that signal never came and on 59:08 Bison sealed it with another wrist shot finish of Ooo Matron quality, this time from Dangling Dick Bordowski, as I shall relate.

Sean Norris to Coach Tait to Bordo. Into the Phantoms’ defensive zone charged the Czech chap. It was at that point that goaltender Marr must have shared a sentiment with Eric Carmen. Eh? Back in 1975 Carmen, formerly of the Rasperries, recorded the famous song “All by Myself”, more memorably recorded by Celine Dion in 1996. As Bordo bore down on goal, you could almost hear Marr singing the chorus of the song “All by myself, don’t wanna be all by myself”. But, alas for the hapless custodian all by himself was exactly what he was. His D had deserted him. Caught with their trousers down by the swiftness of the move and the accurate purply passing, two of them precipitated back in a manner most hurried, but Dangling Dick had the drop on them and wasn’t going to suddenly turn from cheetah to tortoise. The D men could pursue him only with the speed and grace of incontinent kangaroos and had no hope of catching him. Indeed no, Matron. Dangling Dick became a blur as he hammered forward at breakneck speed before unleashing a pin pointedly accurate wrist shot, which threatened to fly all the way to the Czech Republic, but was stopped by the stringbag. Out came Referee Jarvie’s flat hand thrusting forward in a netwardsly pointing direction. A dashed spiffing score as far as Bison were concerned and a moment of hauntingly disastrous beastliness for the Phantoms. Had a party of fish fryers on a works outing been present this was the time to throw their battered cods into the air in celebration. But they mustn’t have been as I saw no airborne culinary delights fitting that description. Never mind. It was 3-1 Bison with less than a minute to play. The Phantoms were reeling like a punch drunk boxer who had just consumed a yard of brandy and then been hit on the head with a baseball bat. At 1-2 to the bad with a minute or more left and the possibility of pulling the goaltender for a last hurrah 6 on 5, they were in with a shout, but now their hopes of winning the game were dead, stone dead, as dead as a do-do, dead in the water and as dead as a drowned drongo. The Phantoms’ spirits slid helplessly into the cess pit of disappointment full of bubbling effluent. It was not going to be their night. The buzzer sounded on 0:00 and it was all over.

Top bananas were elected. Padelek was decided top specter and Harding top Bison.