From the image:
Max and the now sockless Fairweather slouched on the couch, half laughing at the emotionless Henry and his 'we're even' expression. The rest of the party were trying to decide the best way to salvage the flaming disaster that was Edwards beloved grill.
The exhausted decision was to order the pizza from the usual place with the usual toppings. All the usual stuff until Peterson whistled, and called out.
"Hey guys, who the hell did this?"
On the as yet empty draft board, the first slot had been filled. A knife Max had not seen in two years, pinned the selection to the wall.
Max felt the cold sweat on the back of his neck.
Attempt #2 🤔
The evening finally begins to regain an atmosphere of frivolity.
-- Debatable Morality:
The Hockey Pool
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