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From the sublime to the ridiculous

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Tyler sees Luongo sat at the bar, glass in front of him, staring at it as though it holds the secrets of the universe.

He really shouldn’t be surprised - he knows Luongo’s mantra that the All Star Game is better with lots of alcohol. After last year, Tyler thought he’d understood, even if he thought Luongo took it to extreme. But actually, he’s finding this year much more difficult without lots of alcohol; he’s completely onboard with the mantra this time around.

He wanders over to the empty seat next to Luongo, pulls it out, and orders himself a vodka.

Luongo looks over sideways at him.

“Told you it was better with alcohol!” is all he says. Tyler nods acknowledgement back at him.

“This year does seem a bit dull,” he says wrinkling his nose in thought. Luongo snorts a laugh.

“You mean we aren’t having to check our bedrooms each night in case Flower has left us little presents?” Luongo says. “We aren’t waiting to hear Ovie’s latest explosion of wrath, or Flower’s bitching about the response? Checking twitter every ten minutes to see what they’ve done now?”

Tyler nods. “I didn’t think I’d miss it…” he says thoughtfully. “Sleeping safely and without fear of being caught in the pranks seemed like it would be a good thing. But it seems flat without that. I mean the hockey is better… John Scott is great… but yeah.. it’s flat.”

Luongo makes a sound of agreement. He picks up his glass holding it up to the light in a toast, waits until Tyler picks his up, copying the position.

“To absent friends. Without them, the All Star Game is a much duller event!” Luongo declaims and he downs the vodka in one, Tyler following his lead, coughing and spluttering a bit. “They’d love that we were missing them and their pranks though!”

“Yeah, never telling them,” confirms Tyler, thinking about how it would be a good tweet for later. He looks across at Luongo. “Say, you were in Vancouver weren’t you? What happened… ?”

Luongo looks over at hims, grins and taps the side of his nose, shaking his head.

Sitting here in the bar will kill the time until the players meet up to sign each others’ shirts. At least one thing has survived from the wreckage of last year. Although Tyler believes that the page in the briefing pack about how no live animals were to be brought into the arena at any time, no matter the cause or reason, might also have been introduced as a result of last year. He’d carefully photographed his and emailed it onto Flower and Pricey….

He sighs and orders another drink.