KillerMuffin
Seraphically Disinclined
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2000
- Posts
- 25,603
She squirmed around on the hard bench up in the cheap seats, waiting for the guys to leave the rink. You'd think a bunch of guys on skates would move faster after such a hard practice. She could almost smell the sweaty socks from the top of the arena.
The last one paused at the edge of the ice, the swinging door propped open with one hand, and looked around the arena. She froze as his eyes seemed to sweep over her position. She hoped that he didn't notice or just put her appearance off as a hockey-groupie. He stepped out onto the rubber matting and disappeared down the tunnel, the door swinging closed behind him. Finally.
She crept down to the end of the rink and jumped into the icy pit that held the ancient zamboni. The sound of her feet hitting was so loud that she froze, wondering if anyone heard it, and almost fell on her ass.
After a few moments of silence, she went to work. She pulled the small tool kit that she'd painstakingly assembled while studying the blueprints on the zamboni. Chilton's didn't have a copy of the manual, sonsabitches, she had to do some hunting to get a set.
Working quickly and efficiently, she exposed the engine and went for the spark plugs. This one was one of the older ones, with a small Volkswagon engine instead of the newer battery operated ones the rink wanted to buy but couldn't talk the city commissioners into financing. A few alterations to the gap on each plug and she was ready to wrap up and sneak out. Done in less than 15 minutes.
Grinning to herself, she knew exactly what she was going to do to those four pretty, little pistons when they called her brother out to fix the damned thing.
She stuffed her tools in her bag and patted the Zamboni's cold side. Its days were so numbered. She'd better get out before anyone saw her. Standing up, she saw him, leaning against the other end of the Zamboni.
Uh oh.
"You'd better hope that'll start, eh."
The last one paused at the edge of the ice, the swinging door propped open with one hand, and looked around the arena. She froze as his eyes seemed to sweep over her position. She hoped that he didn't notice or just put her appearance off as a hockey-groupie. He stepped out onto the rubber matting and disappeared down the tunnel, the door swinging closed behind him. Finally.
She crept down to the end of the rink and jumped into the icy pit that held the ancient zamboni. The sound of her feet hitting was so loud that she froze, wondering if anyone heard it, and almost fell on her ass.
After a few moments of silence, she went to work. She pulled the small tool kit that she'd painstakingly assembled while studying the blueprints on the zamboni. Chilton's didn't have a copy of the manual, sonsabitches, she had to do some hunting to get a set.
Working quickly and efficiently, she exposed the engine and went for the spark plugs. This one was one of the older ones, with a small Volkswagon engine instead of the newer battery operated ones the rink wanted to buy but couldn't talk the city commissioners into financing. A few alterations to the gap on each plug and she was ready to wrap up and sneak out. Done in less than 15 minutes.
Grinning to herself, she knew exactly what she was going to do to those four pretty, little pistons when they called her brother out to fix the damned thing.
She stuffed her tools in her bag and patted the Zamboni's cold side. Its days were so numbered. She'd better get out before anyone saw her. Standing up, she saw him, leaning against the other end of the Zamboni.
Uh oh.
"You'd better hope that'll start, eh."
