Wrecking House vs. 9th Street

It had been a long and exhausting match. Both teams were running on their last bit of energy. Wrecking House, the local junkyard team of gork, was gaining the upper hand, but the 9th Street hoomans had already scored a goal. The game was tied 1-1.

Wrecking House made a final push toward the 9th Street net. Two hoomans were pinned down by the gork defenders who had thrown them to the ice and were sitting on them. The remaining hoomans circled back to their goal, desperately trying to keep it clear. The three remaining gork clumsily pushed the puck forward.

With an animal-like roar, the gork made their final sprint toward the red circles near the goal, but the hoomans put their bodies in the way. The gork attacker, Grishnak Toothpicker, took his stick in both hands and pushed it at the face of the defending hooman, Slade Jones. Slade ducked under the stick and punched him squarely in the jaw. Grishnak fell to the ice, clutching his mouth. Behind them, the referee, Unto Manninen—one of the most respected judges in the game—saw the play and called a foul. The penalty was against Slade, who was promptly escorted to the penalty box.

The gork attacker with the puck, Karthok Snailfind, went for the shot. As he put all his might into the puck, it was clear his skill was nowhere near the hoomans’, but his shot was strong enough to surprise the hooman goalie, Jonas Jorgensson, who deflected it over the net.

All the gork were now in the attacking zone. Not a single gork was defending their own goal. A hooman defender picked up the puck from behind his net and circled to the side. He scanned the ice, looking for a teammate, but there were only gork between him and the Wrecking House goal. He skated to the right and saw Slade coming out of the penalty box. A quick pass, and Slade would be free to score! The puck left his stick and glided across the ice, over three lines to the center—just out of Slade’s reach.

The Wrecking House goalie, Snorta Ghuul, had spent most of the match picking lice and other snacks from his gear and skin. He saw the puck approaching, made a quick decision, and skated toward it. With only two minutes left on the clock, he grabbed the puck and looked up to see a mass of friendly gork in front the hoomans goal. The goalie’s stick was big, more suited for punching opponents in the back than handling a puck, but he gave it a try and sent the puck sailing back toward the 9th Street goal.

Karthok was sullen, his powerful shot had been deflected. He was surprised when the puck somehow glided through his legs. He wasted no time, looking up at the goalie with a hungry, drooling stare. Jonas Jorgensson saw the grim look in his eyes. He involuntarily released some of the fluids he had gathered in his left pant leg and waited for his destiny. Karthok raised his stick into the air and slammed it down on the ice just before the puck. The full fury of a full-grown gork’s slap shot sent the puck flying through the air and right through the glove Jonas used for catching. Goal!

And then Unto blew his whistle. Game over. 2-1. Wrecking House wins!

(This was an account of a real playtesting game between Hoomans and Gorks.