"Coach, let me on the ice. That referee is not playing by any Old Age crib club rules by any rusty standard. I will use my cunning to win the game, and get us into second last place in the league. I promise"
Coach Losington made whoopie under his arm, and gave a unconvincingly smiles "Sure, and Whales fart too that create Tsunamis. You are obviously no American Ninja. All my other players are either too fatigued or too tired of waiting at the hospital for X rays. Now, get out there and finally be a man!"
Wannapus got out on the ice, and placed the knob end of his stick on the ice for to take the face off near the opposing teams end.
The coach yelled out at him "Hey, you, idiot! Use the other side of your stick to win the face off, and stop showing off!"
Harold burped and smiled at his coach "Hey, who said I wanted to win the face off, you Stalinistic Coach of a Siberian Labor Parade ferret group!"
The puck dropped, as Wannapus hit the knob of his stick right on the black of the puck. The puck went back to a defensive player, who fired the puck straight at the net. The referee was about to blow his whistle for another erroneous and untrue penalty, when Wannapus quickly took his whistle from his chin area and shoved it down his jock.
"No more penalties tonight, you Pee Wee coach from hell! Here, suck on this!" He then shoved the whistle back into the coaches mouth. A minute remained on the clock.
The whistle was an orchestra of smells. Some rear end gas, some ear wax from scratching his nuts while placing his fingers in his ears, and some pee drippings, and of course the wax from his ears.
The wax was like crazy glue. It had an effect to shut tight the referees mouth closed, as he had a hard time to haul out the whistle from between his lips.
Wannapus laughed haughtingly, as he was a big boy and began to slam the Ardvarks into the boards with cross checks as the linesmen watched the Twirlers defensemen play with the puck back and forth near the line. He slashed their star player, Pettwettles on his best glove side. He was hurt badly, and yelled in tremendous pain.
He then rushed over to the goalie, as the referee gagged and puked from his nostrils. His mouth was plugged, and could not blow his whistle for help. He continued to gag, without much knowledge of what was happening around him.
Finally the Twirler defensemen gave a rocket shot towards the goaltender. Harold used his hockey stick to unstrap the goalies hockey pants, while at the right side of him. The puck gave an awesome rebound in going towards another Twirler forward towards the left, who then shot the puck towards Harold on the right, who used the knob of his hockey stick to fire the puck into the net.
The time on the clock remaining was one second.
The referee was starting to do a weak shuffle with his legs on the ice. He could not blow his whistle at all during all this time, which gave the Twirlers the time to win the game and come in second last in the league.
Coach Losington cried. He hollered "Harold Wannapus, you are the greatest ever! I never seen a goal scored ever before with the end of a Hockey stick!"
The clock keeper sounded the horn for the end of the game.
Harold added "Too bad you never played me all year, we could have won the glorious Pewter Cup of the Bad League of the Hockey Banditos! No worry, I am going to work at my Uncles grocery store this year. Maybe he has a job for me at packing groceries.. .Maybe.."