Chapter 23: Fat Bottomed Girls

Medway High School, Arva, Ontario

9:16am, Friday, November 30, 1979

“Are you gonna kill me, if I kinda pass on doing anything ... later on today?” I whispered to Tracy Norton and Elaine Roonee after waiting on them after Mr. Ballows ended our first period music class a little earlier than normal. The Little-man made use of both Roo-Roo and Tracy’s naked bodies, along with naked trumpeter, Darren Partridge in his lecture on changes in sexual connotations and views in music.

I was very thankful that our music teacher was extra careful with how he described representations and body views in music in relation to Elaine’s body type due to her super self-conscious body image issues. In turn of the century music, our teacher explained how Elaine’s large and fluffy body type was much preferred over Tracy’s slender or lithesome shape.

During a short break where we had a few minutes to discuss and answer a few musical questions, I smiled down at Elaine and Tracy on the platform and said to them, “We hope you take this in the spirit of the song we’re gonna sing as our answer to Mr. B’s challenge.”

Elaine smiled up at me and my little four person group. She even did a little fat bottomed butt shake on the teaching platform when Jason, Warren, Andrew and I did our back row rendition of Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls. We sang that song in response to the Little-man’s query about modern songs with strong body image connotations. Our classmates, along with Elaine and Tracy went nuts as the four of us sang a sweet acapella version of:

“Are ... you gonna take me home tonight?
Ahh ... down beside that red firelight.
Are ... you gonna let it all hang out?
Fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round!”

Jason and Warren then did a great vocal impression of Brian May’s guitar riff, which occurs between this song’s unusual chorus to verse vocal arrangement. Their vocalizations led me sing out the, “Hey!“ line before my three friends joined me in the remainder of the verse’s lyrics:

“I was just a skinny lad,
Never knew no good from bad.
But I knew love before I left my nursery, huh!
Left alone with big fat, Fanny,
She was such a naughty nanny.
Hey big woman! You made a bad boy out of me.”

(Note: Fat Bottomed Girls was written by Queen’s guitarist Brian May, who sang lead on the song’s chorus with Freddie Mercury singing lead during the song’s verses. FBG was from the British band’s 1978 Jazz album, and was paired with Bicycle Race as a ‘Double A-sided single.’ Both of these songs referenced each other within their lyrics to clearly tie themselves together. Fat peaked at number 11 on the UK Rock charts, and number 24 on the Billboard Hot 100 charts.)

“After you did such a super job singing with the guys, how can I be mad at you, Mike?” Elaine replied to my end of class question.

“What’s going on, Mike?” Tracy whispered as we stepped out into the hallway on our journey to our second period classes.

“I just had rough day and evening after getting ambushed by my girls after our Time Bandettes’ practice,” I lightly laughed.

“That’s what you get when you go out with five hot tamales,” Elaine said through possibly her first real belly laugh of her NIS week.

“I thought I heard Shannon saying something ‘bout your evening as we were at our lockers, this morning,” Tracy chuckled.

“That little ... cheerleader is gonna be the death of me. I forbad Lynette, Sammy, Tempe and Zupena from telling Lisa something, but I forgot to include Shannon in that punishable by death commandment. Well, guess who tattled on me to Lisa, and nearly caused my own death, last night?” I said as we climbed the rear stairwell.

“Are you talking about your cheerleader girlfriend?” Sammy turned and laughed as she, Cano and a few others enjoyed listening to me give Elaine and Tracy a PG version of those events.

“That little...” I started to say before Cano sharply spoke,

“Careful, Cuda. You can’t be talking bad about Number-5, now,” Cano said with a touch of warning in her voice.

“I thought you were Number-5?” Kalena laughed and gave her friend a small shot to her upper arm.

“I’m Cuda’s Number-1!” Cano vehemently said and quickly put Kalena in a head-lock.

“Better not let Bricky hear you say that, Cano,” Sammy chuckled.

As Elaine, Tracy and Darren veered off to the left at the front end of the hallway as most of my crowd headed right, a bunch of us wished them luck on their final day in the NIS program.

“Remember, you can decline any class lesson that makes you uncomfortable!” Sammy called out to the three, eleventh graders.

Just then, we saw Peter Gertssen, the second male, NIS eleventh grader walking towards us. We wished him good luck with his last day, and Tempe made sure she repeated Sammy’s words of wisdom to my former St. Pat’s classmate and Tracy’s NIS partner.

“I should have taken that advice last period as I doubt anything worse could happen to me. I semi-stupidly agreed to do that gyno-type examination in Biology,” Peter replied with a look of disgust on his face.

“You didn’t let them use that probe, did you, Peter?” Shannon softly asked as our NIS student stopped to talk with for a moment.

“Oh, yeah, and unlike Mike ... I blew a powerful load, which landed all the way up on my chin after that thing pressed on my prostate gland,” Peter embarrassingly replied.

“Gawd, I’m sorry that happened, Pete,” Elizabeth said as she moved to give our former elementary school classmate a hug.

“If I wasn’t so embarrassed about cumming on myself ... Damn! I really enjoyed that orgasm!” Peter honestly said as he looked Liz and me in the eyes.

“That is what Dr. Tatum said ... either a guy would have a monster orgasm like that or a complete shutdown like Mike experienced,” Tempe added with a smile and a rub on Peter’s bare shoulder.

“Hey, you’ve done your good NIS deed for the day, Pete. Don’t worry about being a major Ginny pig in any of you other classes,” Elizabeth said to our friend.

“Where’s my eleventh grade story writers?” Mrs. Pierce loudly cackled down the hallway as she obviously saw us loitering about fifty feet from her classroom.

“Be right there, Mrs. P!” several of my crew yelled as a few of us shared a high-5 with Peter before he hustled onto his Geography class with Mrs. Rose.

After we entered her class, Mrs. P said, “Since we don’t have any NIS students, I’m not supposed to allow relief. However, with five wonderful volunteers, today, I’m gonna ask, ‘Do any of you need relief?’”

I looked between Tempe and Shannon, two of those five naked volunteers. Neither of my girlfriends seemed interested in taking relief, so I breathed a sigh of relief at that. However, my ‘relief’ was short lived when Tammi softly asked, “Cuda, would you come and take care of me, please.”

Both Shannon and Tempe gave me a ‘go for it’ head nod in Tammi’s direction, so pushed myself up from my desk to do our cutie-pie friend a solid. Before I started with her relief session, Tammi softly said she was measured and stroked in her first period Home Economics class. She added that they were preparing material for Christmas dresses in her size for a local Women’s and Children’s shelter.

Similar to how Tammi focused on my sensitive spot on the underside of my cock, I didn’t waste a lot of time getting to her hot button as she was pretty well ‘juiced’ from her first period experiences.

“Can I put my feet on your shoulders, Mike?” she softly asked. I simply put my hands on her ankles and lifted them up in response because I didn’t want to lift up from her pussy, breaking contact with her sweet tasting groove.

Tammi growled out her orgasm after just two minutes of my licking and sucking on her clit, while fingering her tight slit. When her legs loosen from around my head, I barely lifted my mouth from her clit and softly asked, “More?”

“Yes, please,” Tammi barely squeaked as her legs flopped open. In less than ten seconds, her legs were once again tightly pressed to my ears as her hands pressed my mouth hard against her crotch. I lightly tickled her hard little clit, but that was all she needed to howl in pleasure as her second larger orgasm swept her into NIS bliss.

After Tammi and I cleaned ourselves, Tempe turned and whispered to me, “You better stop giving girls such wicked orgasms or every girl in school will be clamoring to join your harem.”

“You wouldn’t want to be short-changed on your relief, would you?” I replied with a smile.

“No, but...”

“You know I’m a fan of your butt, but that type of ‘but’ isn’t worth the breath needed to form that word,” I interrupted Tempe’s reply as I opened my notebook to my Sci-Fi story.

“Yeah, you’re right, Mike,” Tempe softly said as she turned around in her seat to get working on her Energist comic book story.

During my friends and my combined spare and lunch periods, we talked about how we were going to manage things for tonight’s basketball game and concert at Strathroy. As I already knew would happen, Sammy and Lynette said they, along with Eda and Lisa would make sure our band’s equipment was set up at Strathroy for our eight-o’clock performance. I was kinda surprised that Tempe said she would help the girls with that task instead of coming to my game. Shannon and Zupena both said they’d like to watch our game, at least the first half as they’d be riding with me from Parkhill over to Strathroy.

“You’ll have time to help us get our gear in the trailer, won’t you, Cuda?” Sammy asked.

“Oh, yeah. We should also have time to stop at Harvey’s or Pizza Hut before we need to hit the road to Parkhill,” I replied as I went to town on my two sandwiches and my school’s fries.

“You’re gonna wanna eat something else after killing two sandwiches, two fries and two fruits?” Andi Whiting laughed from a few seats down from us.

“Hey, gotta game ‘N gotta a concert, so I gotta eat,” I replied through a mouthful of roast beef and cheese.

“That’s one large, high octane engine, Cuda’s got to fuel,” Jon laughed as he squeezed Andi’s shoulders.

“I like Pizza Hut’s Personal Pans,” Zupena said as she snatched a couple of fries from my plate.

“I’d rather have one of their paste dishes,” Shannon added with a smile as she grabbed my navel orange and started to peel it ... I’m guessing for her and anyone else who wanted a slice of my sweet treat.

“I guess we’ll be going to Pizza Hut after getting our instruments and equipment packed,” Cano laughed as she avoided getting her hand swatted from pilfering a couple of my fries.

“See! ... This is why I have to eat so often. You guys steal my food, so I can’t get what I need each time I sit down to eat,” I faux-fumed as I leaned over the remaining half plate of fries and my Golden Delicious apple.

“Yeah, right! You’ve so-so obviously missed a few meals, Mike,” Shannon laughed as she pretended to offer my navel orange to my friends at the table.

“Hey! I like oranges!” Andy Lunby called out after Shannon pulled her offering away.

“Why didn’t you bring a couple with you, then, you dumb butt,” his twin brother laughed as he pulled an orange from his lunch bag.

“Sit!” Jennifer immediately called as Andy started to sneak up on his brother in an attempt to steal his orange.

“Ah, you’re no fun, Jenn,” Bradley laughed after Jennifer pulled Andy back into his seat.

“Yeah. And you haven’t seen these two yahoos going at it over something silly like an orange, either,” Jennifer countered and stuck her tongue out at Brad.

“Amen, Jennifer!” Andrew laughed as he knew how much Jon and Andy liked to go at it over silly things like this or their dumb basketball actions.

Even though Tracy Norton and Elaine Roonee knew I wasn’t ‘up for anything’ in the shower, apparently neither were they. I couldn’t help but laugh as Tracy gently begged off any help from the guys in the shower. Apparently, she ‘bit the bullet’ in their General Biology class and underwent Dr. Tatum’s gyno-exam, saving Elaine from that experience. When my classmates heard that, they readily understood Tracy’s and Elaine’s reasoning for not really wanting any help with showering on this last day of their NIS week. Elaine did consent, however, to having Wyatt wash her hair once more. Tracy smiled at me as she nodded towards the easy smiling, ‘Fat Bottomed Girl’ under the hot water stream.

North Middlesex High School, Parkhill, Ontario

6:11pm, Friday, November 30, 1979

“You’re taking the opening tip, Cuda?” Andrew asked as we walked out on the court for the opening tip. Even though Andrew was two inches taller than me at six-five, I could out jump him by a good five to six inches in a two-foot vertical leap test.

After I saw a fairly chunky, six-four guy from Clinton High step into the circle, I said, “Nah, you’ve got it, A&W.” All five of us quickly slapped hands with our opponents and called out our defensive assignments.

I couldn’t help but notice the surprised look and smirk on Clinton’s five-foot-ten guard’s face when he heard me call out his number as my man. I thought, ‘I bet he thinks he’ll have a walk in the park going against a bigger, slower opponent.’

Andrew tipped the season opening toss-up to Big-Mike. As we practiced, Matt set a mid-court pick on my man as I took off as fast as I could towards Clinton’s basket. Clinton’s guard hesitated for just a second, which was all I needed to gain an advantage to receive Big’s lead pass. Our team’s first bucket of the ‘79-’80 basketball season was my monstrous two handed, thunder dunk.

Big-Mike, Jon and I picked up our men right after they inbounded the ball. I was immediately in 11’s grill as he waved his teammates away, thinking he could easily take me on one-on-one. Similar to what I did against Johnny Stryboshe in our home blowout victory over Strathroy last spring, I purposefully allowed 11 to think he beat me on a simple crossover dribble near their free throw line. Just as I did then, I reached around his relatively small body and swatted the ball from his hand towards Big-Mike. This play ended in a similar result as I reverse pivoted and caught my teammate’s looping pass, dribbled once and duplicated my first thunder dunk for a 4-zip lead.

Clinton’s next four trips resulted in two stolen passes, one dribbled ball off the point guard’s foot, and one missed fifteen footer. Clinton’s coach called his team’s first time out with his squad trailing 12-0 as I scored on a pull up, corner of the key jumper with Jon, Big-Mike and Andrew adding three more baskets.

“Let’s see how they handle our jump-trap,” Coach W said in our huddle. He then turned to me and said, “Just steer your man towards Big-Mike to set the trap. Andrew, Matt, be ready to switch up a man when you see Big attack. Jon-Jon...”

“I’ll be ready to rotate back from my offside position,” Jon said as Coach looked in his direction.

“Okay, guys! Don’t let up on them. Just one jump-trap and then go back to our press and overplay defense,” Coach called out as we got up after the ref’s short warning whistle and call to the court.

“One, two, three, Cowboys!” We shouted as we broke from our huddle.

After the inbounds, I clearly overplayed 11’s right side, forcing him to head left towards Big-Mike. About fifteen feet from the half-court line, Big sprung our trap and pounced on Clinton’s smaller point guard. With my six-three and Big’s six-one body and arms harassing him, the smaller guard jumped up and tossed a semi-weak pass to Big-Mike’s vacated man. Matt had already reacted to our trap and easily picked off that pass, and led an instant three-versus-one fast-break chance.

Matt made a fake pass to Big-Mike on his right before he tossed up an alley-op towards the rim for me. With just my left hand, I corralled the basketball and cuff-dunked it through the goal for my third power jam in less than four minutes of game time.

While I didn’t acknowledge Zupena’s and Shannon’s shouts of praise, I definitely recognized their excited voices in the sparsely crowded Parkhill gym. Clinton’s coach obviously decided to have a different player deal with our ‘press and overplay’ defensive pressure as Jon’s man took the inbounds pass from my number 11. I actually enjoyed the slight respite from doggedly pressing the ball handler.

When my man acted like he wasn’t interested in the ball, I figured he was about to break back to help the new ball handler with Jon’s in your face defense. Because of our overplay style of defense, I was able to jump that action, and picked off that pass to ‘11’. After dribbling towards the goal, I dropped off a pass to Jon, who nailed a jumper from the free throw line to increase the score to 16-0.

After Big-Mike tipped a pass out of bounds, Coach made a complete five man exchange, with three-thirty-two left in the first quarter. Our second unit’s 1-2-1-1 diamond press worked well but allowed a couple of press-break layups. Our tight 2-3 zone also forced Clinton to take fairly long range jumpers, which they weren’t able to make. I was really pleased to see that all the off-season shooting practice was paying off for Gary, as he hit both of his mid-range jumpers, to go along with his one-handed jam. Wayne made a slick steal and laid a nice pass out for Gary to run onto for his dunk with just under a minute left in the first quarter. At the end of the first quarter, we led the outgunned Clinton Cougars, 25 to 5.

During the quarter break, Coach said to our first unit, “Do two jump-traps to start off with and then drop back into our base ‘1’ man defense.”

(Note: Our numbering system referred to where our pressure began, with a ‘1’ being at the top of our key. A ‘3’ was at half court, with our ‘press & overplay’ as our ‘5’ was our full court pickup point.)

“Yes, Sir,” we said as my five man unit got up to check in at the scorer’s table after we broke our huddle.

“Little, take the tip. Run our second set piece,” Coach called out to us as we walked to the center circle.

I nodded to Andrew and moved in to jump against their number 50. I easily outjumped this chunky guy, tipping the ball to Matt. Big-Mike set a pick for Matt who dribbled around that pick. As that was going on, I ran my defender, their center into Andrew’s screen and raced once more down the opposite side of the court. Jon also raced to the near side corner. If I was open, Matt was to throw up a lob for me. If that wasn’t open, Jon hopefully would be open for a corner jumper with me and Andrew in solid rebounding position for a missed shot.

As the play quickly progressed, both of Clinton’s guards moved with Jon’s near side run. I lifted my hand to signal I was open to Matt, who made a beautiful lead pass towards the front of the rim. I jumped at the basket from the left side of the key and caught that pass in front of the basket. The only thing I could do with that less than perfect pass was a reverse jam as I rocketed past the front of the basket.

With the home team playing in the next game, the now larger crowd came to their feet as the wooden bleachers erupted in a mass of shouts and foot stomps at my reverse jam. Even though we didn’t steal or cause a turnover on either of those two ‘jump-traps’ attempts, Clinton didn’t get a good look at the basket as our basic man pressure still overpowered their smaller, less athletic squad. When my Friday game was done with three-forty-two left in the second quarter, we led the Cougars, 37-13. In my two quarters of action, I scored 12 points, snagged three rebounds, and had or caused five steals/turnovers.

With Wayne’s second unit in the game, Coach W came down to me as I put my scarlet and white warmup top on, and said, “That was a great first game, Little. If you want to get an early start to Strathroy, you have my blessing to go and get showered and changed.”

I took a quick peek at the ‘clock-clock’ on the gym wall and saw it was just six-forty-one. I then said, “I should be good heading out at half time. I wanna cheer on these guys for as long as I can.”

“Okay, your call, Mike,” Coach said as he ruffled my drenched mop of brown hair.

Just then, I saw Zupena and Shannon pointing to their watches, so I quickly countered and said, “I guess I’ll head into the locker room to get cleaned up.” I then turned to Jon, Andrew, Geoff, Big and Matt and said, “Finish this off, and I’ll see you in a couple of hours down in Saints-ville.”

“Good game, Cuda. Drive safe and play hot,” Andrew said as I shared a high-5 with my teammates as I walked past them on my way to our dressing room. Coach Feelt unlocked the door and wished me well at our concert.

“See you in the morning, Coach Stretch,” I added as I walked past our six-foot-seven inch assistant coach.

After a quick shower, I pulled on my jeans, and my favorite, #16, Bobby Clarke Philadelphia Flyers’ jersey before doing up my low cut black Chuck Taylor sneakers. With my sweaty uniform, warm-ups, towel and supplies in my gym bag, I grabbed my leather jacket and exited the locker into the gym just as the first half ended. I saw that my teammates led 44-20, and once more gave each one of them a hand-slap as they entered the locker for Coach’s halftime talk.

“Drive safely with these two ladies, Mike,” Coach Williamson said as he gave me a high-5 and waved at Zupena and Shannon, who had moved over to wait for me at the nearby exit.

“Yes, Sir. See you around nine-fifteen, nine-twenty, correct?” I replied and double-checked on our first game’s starting time in the morning.

“Yes, unless we suddenly forget how to play defense and shoot, we’ll be playing Goderich at ten,” Coach W said as he ducked into the locker room.

“Hey, Beautifuls,” I said as I stepped up to my two knockout blondes.

“You a monster on defense, Mikhail. I love hustle to cause many turnovers,” Zupena said with her eyes proudly gleaming at her wonderful analytical game viewpoint.

“Your dunks were awesome, but as Zupi said, I just loved your defensive effort. I think that you destroyed poor 11’s confidence after you caused four or five early turnovers,” Shannon said as they walked on either side of me.

“Well, I was kinda motivated to wipe the silly smirk from his face after hearing me call out his number as my man to guard,” I confidently replied to my girls’ compliments.

We hit Highway 81 just before seven-o’clock for a normal thirty minute drive between Parkhill and Strathroy. With the Energists acting as my personal radar and speed-trap detector, I felt comfortable driving about 75 on this 55mph highway. I only had to ease off the accelerator one time as they notified me that an OPP cruiser was heading in my direction as I neared the junction of Hwy 81 and 22.

Once in Strathroy, I easily made my way to the high school and pulled around to the gym’s side entrance. I parked beside Jason’s limo and our equipment trailer. With the door propped open with a wooden stopper, the three of us walked into the gym around seven-twenty-five.

As we walked up to the stage, Tempe cried, “You’re here early! We didn’t think you’d get here till about seven-forty-five-ish.”

“So, are they gonna miss you in Parkhill?” Cano called out from the stage.

“I doubt it, seeing how it was what, 44-20 at the half?” Shannon laughed. She then added, “Mike was a beast on defense and you should have seen him do an incredible, reverse type dunk on a half-court pass from Matthew!”

“Oh! Man!” Lisa semi-whined as she helped her sister get the microphones in place on her souped up drum kit.

“The Cowboys defense swarms like hornets on court. Mikhail no let Clinton guard breathe,” Zupena excitedly said as I gave both girls a boost up onto the stage before I hopped up to help Brad with the four sets of colored lights. He already had the two vertical lights up and running and was using our step-ladder to hook the horizontal lights to Strathroy’s hanging stage structure.

“Make sure that clip clicks shut, Brad. That is a tricky little bastard,” I said as I held the ladder for my strong, football playing friend.

“Yeah, I think you may have to get new clasp, soon, as this one doesn’t want to stay closed,” Brad said as he played with that troublesome closure. “There, I think that’s got it.”

“Want me to do the other one?” I asked my friend as he climbed down the ten foot step-ladder.

“Nah, I’m used to doing these things. If you can hand it up to me, that will make it a ton easier, though” my best bud said with a smile.

In less than three minutes, Brad had the fourth bank of colored lights hung and shining bright where Lisa and Eda would be standing or playing from. When I saw Tempe kneeling down, taping our one of our playlists on the stage by Sammy’s microphone, I moved over to her and gave her a kiss when she pushed herself up to her feet.

“Do you need one here in the center of the stage?” she asked as she waved her copies in front of her purple blouse covered boobs.

“Nah, I’ll glance at Sammy’s or Brick’s playlist, if I need a refresher on our next song,” I replied with a smile.

“Okay, let me get these taped down for Bricky, E and Lynette, and then I’ll come back for some more pre-show sugar,” Tempe sweetly said.

“Where’s Sammy?” Shannon asked as none of us three late ‘arrivees’ had seen our redheaded band mate.

“She went with the Strathroy’s VP and I think ... Piper to get our check?” Cano replied from her keyboard setup.

“Oh! Oh! A Global TV camera-guy is here to video a few songs as promotional pieces for our big concert,” Lisa excitedly said immediately after Cano’s response. She quickly added, “That’s him over by the wall.”

“Could you go talk to him, Cuda? I told him I would after getting set up but now that you’re here...” Lynette called out to me as she made an adjustment to the second keyboard setup, which Sammy plays.

“On my way,” I replied and jumped down from the four foot high stage.

“Hey, Man!” I called out to the thirty-ish looking guy with the Global TV camera resting between his legs.

“Mike ... of the Time Bandettes! Nice to see you made it from your basketball game. Did your team win?” the smiling TV person said and asked of me.

“We were up 44-20 at the half, so I sure hope they finished Clinton High off without me. And your name is?” I laughed and shook hands with this guy.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Hunter, Hunter Wesson from Global TV. The tall blonde, Lynette said she’d get with me about recording a couple of your songs for promotional purposes. Any ideas on which ones would be good to use in that capacity?”

“Well, I’d rather you record and use our own songs for this, so ... our opening song, Danger Zone would be a great choice. Actually, if you used any of our first four or five songs, that would be give you a good range of songs, with a few different lead singers.” I then thought of something, and added, “I really don’t want you to record, Painkiller, our fourth song. I’d rather keep it under wraps for our concert in January, if you know what I mean.”

“If I just record your first, three songs, I think that would be good for the bosses back in Toronto, and anyone else who might want to use them,” Hunter said with a smile. “What are those titles?” he asked as he pulled out a note pad.

“Our opening song is Danger Zone, which I’m lead ... That will be followed by Sammy Labatt singing, I Hate Myself For Loving You ... and then, These Dreams, which Lisa Masciotro sings lead on,” I replied in a slow manner as Hunter was getting this down.

“How do you spell your band members’ names just in case they want to put a ‘flash-tag’ on this promotional footage?” I gave Hunter the spellings of all our names and then wished him a safe trip back to the big city.

As I walked back to the stage, Sammy came up to me with Piper and Ms. Van Tollen, Strathroy’s VP. I said hello to the stocky lady and to Kevin Timmons’ girlfriend.

Walking to the stage, Ms. Van Tollen laughingly said, “Just so you know, I’m good with a few ‘colorfully worded’ songs ... as long as they aren’t pure filth in nature.”

“Oh, no! Our Vice and basketball coach would wash our mouths out with soap if we just randomly spouted off a stream of unneeded curse words,” I quickly replied.

“Yes, I can see Tom doing just that,” Ms. Van Tollen chuckled. “I’m sure you kids will do a great job. Our students haven’t stopped talking about this dance, since they heard your band will be doing that NIS concert in January.”

“Even though this is enemy territory, we’re happy to be here,” Sammy said before I boosted her petite, tracksuit covered body up onto the stage.

“Speaking of enemy territory, Ms. Van Tollen. A good number of my teammates and their girlfriends will be coming here after our game ends in Parkhill. Can you please do your best to... ?” I said and started to ask the Saints’ VP.

“I’ll make sure the door people are aware of them and that they’ll be my guests here at Strathroy,” the VP interjected on my question.