The Weevil Nation, returning to the ice for the first time since its dismal loss the week before, found renewed strength and vigor with the presence of its fearless team leaders Sattora-San and diddle. The game starts off quickly (and well, this time) for the Weevils, as they net one 1:07 into the game on a Zarby move from which the goalie is probably still trying to make it back from the corner of the rink. A lofty 10 minutes later, Pinet shows us all his newfound wrist strength by snapping both one in the net and out of his slump all in one fell swoop. As the Brews Brothers lagged on the ice, wishing they had laid off the 3rd pint before the game, Zarby lays the hurt on them again.

Meanwhile, back at the bat cave Michelle is tossing aside shots like they were rag dolls and, after seeing us gain a 5-0 lead, she decides to let the next shot in. The score is now 5-1, and she has purposely made the game more interesting by putting the Weevil Nation in a precarious situation: the most dangerous lead in hockey. Sattora with his off-the-cuff play calling, faceoff strategies, precision passing, and stealthy shooting, contributes 2 more to the cause. Yao, with his go-go-gadget reach again sprays the boards and net (mostly boards) with a peppering of shots that would have made a 1930’s Chicago mobster (or one of Skatch’s “connections”) proud. End result: 32 shots, 1 assist, team leading low .043 shooting percentage. All in a day’s work.

Skatch decides to put on the granddaddy pants and show up (albeit late). He closes the holes in his pasta-strainer-style defense tighter than Uni shuts his sphincter when he drops the soap in a shower with BMoore. Myze trades in the fighting gloves for the stickhandling hands and laces an epic roofer from the blue line, injuring the jaws of all who saw it.

The post-game tailgate had all the usual suspects: San, diddle, Uni, Zarb, Char, the Veds, Skatch, etc etc. Pinet’s absence worked out for us in the long run because it gave us something to talk about after Char’s brilliant jokes. Oh, and I mean “brilliant” in the way the Hungarian people mean it: f*&^ing horrible. She rattled off such hits as “Yasig, no arms no honey,” and “Zebra, you are what you are.” Perhaps the best comment of them all was Mich: “no one laughs at your jokes because they’re not funny.” The jokes were so bad even Sattora with his Enzyte salesman smile couldn’t give them to a depression clinic for free. Fortunately, our crackwhooooore from last week appears to have made it to Claytonville. BMoore was saddened by her absence. He thought the relationship was going somewhere.