The Mighty Ducks Imagines

Ejected

"What? You're throwing him out? You can't do that! It's 3 seconds into the game!" Bombay screams from the bench as Portman is escorted out of the game.

"Ref, what the hell was that call?" Fulton skates to the ref's left as Dean heads to the locker room.

"Are you blind? They paying you or something?" I rage at him from his right.

"Portman ran at him unprovoked. The call was clear as day." The ref is adamant as we go to the face-off dot.

"The only thing that's clear is that you're a moron!" I yell.

"Are you reffing with your eyes closed?" Fulton adds.

"If you don't cut it out, I'll eject both of you for referee interference as unsportsmanlike misconduct!" The irritated ref warns us before skating away.

Standing in position as we wait for the puck to drop, Fulton and I share glances of annoyance from either side of the centers. That was such a bullshit call. I can't help but use my anger to be more aggressive as the game unfolds. Same with Fulton.

Every single time we're on the ice, that same ref zones in only on myself and Fulton - especially me. Probably because I was much more vocal with my displeasure. Whenever I go near a player, I can see him twitching, itching to blow that whistle. And the Iceland team knows it too. Though I try to avoid major conflict, those goons put too much effort into making me draw a penalty.

As we glide past their blue line, I notice one of those unfriendly giants cross-check Dwayne. Without hesitation, I shove him in retaliation. Next thing I know, I fall to the ice with a stinging pain around my face. Fulton drops his gloves and stick before throwing the first punch. With whistles blowing furiously, I remove a glove and put my hand to my face, realising that they drew blood.

Guy helps me up and I immediately join Fulton in the fight. Refs struggle but they manage to pry us off one another. Spitting obscenities, I know I'm skating on thin ice. Before any penalties can be called, the same ref from before cuts me short.

"That's it, young lady! You're out of the game!"

"What? Are you kidding?" I yell at him before he tries to drag me away. "Don't fucking touch me!" I yank my arm away. "What about them? I'm fucking bleeding!"

"Just let us do our jobs." Before I leave, the other referee announces penalties.

"USA, number 84, major penalties and ejection for roughing, fighting, slashing and unsportsmanlike conduct. USA, number 44, 5 minutes for fighting. USA, number 7, 2 minutes for roughing."

"Dwayne did nothing wrong, asshat!"

"Iceland, number 72, 2 minutes for cross-checking." He announces the only Iceland penalty before skating away to the sound of booing.

"That's it? They drew blood! That's at least a double minor! What about them fighting? Ref make the proper calls, come on!" Bombay protests.

Filled with rage, I storm down the tunnel, smashing my stick against the frame of the locker room door. Upon entering, I see Dean taking his anger out on anything in sight.

"Hi." He looks up between grunts and yells. Man, he's really worked up a sweat.

"Don't break anything or we'll have to pay for it." I shove my stuff into my locker.

"It's so unfair! Aren't you pissed too?" He throws his hands up in defeat.

"Obviously I am! I guess it is coming out of Bombay's money." I stop to think about it. "Hand me the chair." Dean happily does so and watches on as I launch it across the room.

"Yeah! Alright!" He hypes up my destruction. "Hey, are you okay? You got some blood... Everywhere." He gestures to my red face.

I proceed to tell Portman everything that happened after the first 3 seconds of the game - including the unbalanced penalties dished out upon my ejection. He was too busy breaking everything to watch the game via the screens to see it for himself.

With Dean now caught up on everything, we go back to causing carnage in the locker room. A few minutes later, we've tired ourselves out. Practically passed out on the floor, we mumble stuff that would be incoherent to anyone else. Suddenly, the door opens. I don't look up because I assume that Fulton has also been ejected.

"Hey, guys." That's not Fulton.

"Julie?" I manage to lift my head.

"Hey, Jules." Dean flails his arm to wave at her as he remains staring at the ceiling.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" I slowly stand up.

"I was kicked out before my shift started."

"Seriously? For what?" I'm baffled as I use all my strength to drag Dean off the floor.

"Intent to injure."

"You hurt someone?" Dean scoffs - now on sitting on the table.

"Barely. I shoved a couple of Iceland guys down to the ice for being sexist pigs." Julie shrugs, clearly not regretting her actions.

"Alright." Dean smirks and nods - clearly impressed and madly in love.

"Worth it." I support her decision.

The trio chat about the refs and their inability to do their jobs. Eventually, we decide to change out of our gear. Sitting on the only chairs to remain unbroken, we watch the game on the small screen - making snarky comments the whole time. We can't help but cackle as Sanderson is called out.

"Come on." Dean rushes to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To give that jerk a piece of my mind... And maybe my fist."

"Count me in." I spring up from my seat.

"Julie?"

"No, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

2/3 of the Bash Brigade rush through the halls to reach the stands. Luckily, we get to the stairs by the Iceland penalty box. I follow Dean down the stairs and try not to trip as he takes the lead.

"Hey, Sanderson! I want a piece of you, Sanderson!"

"So do I!"

"You're ours!" Portman points aggressively.

"What? You think this is funny, dipshit?"

As we both charge towards the box, filled with the intentions of jumping in to fight, some security guards starting dragging Dean whilst other carry me away from everyone. Back in the locker room, Julie greets us with sarcasm, knowing it was a bad idea. Now we wait.

With the game over and the team packed into the locker room, Bombay berates us on an embarrassing loss as well as our unruly behaviour resulting in 3 ejections. Having reached our limit, the whole team snaps. However, the reveal of Bombay's ice cream date with the Iceland lady is what stirs the team up the most and causes Bombay's biggest outburst. Late night practice is proving to be the next chapter in this nightmare. This is about to be hell. At least we have each other.