The hockey game was over. Like, it had been over since midway through the second period, nearly fifteen minutes of game time earlier. But there was Elphege, still throwing his weight around out front, trumpeting at his teammates to keep skating, and pissing off the other bench with way-too-hard hits for a blowout. When the ref gave him a double minor for roughing at 03:40 in the third, even Elphege’s own team and fans cheered. Enough was enough.
Elphege flung his stick over the boards and flopped his gray bulk down in the penalty box. As soon as the puck dropped, he started with the trumpeting again, and banged his huge forelimbs on the glass.
It didn’t matter. With Elphege off the ice, both sides calmed down and lightly scrimmaged until the final horn. Then all the hockey players glided out to center ice and formed up to shake hands like the civilized barbarians they were.
Elphege squeezed out of the penalty box and went to join the line. At first, the ref looked worried there might be an incident. It wasn’t like he’d be able to restrain the massive bull pachyderm! But Elphege just peeled his mouth guard out with his trunk and said, “Good game,” all the way down the line. No hard feelings. The other team understood. Even in a lost cause, everyone knows elephants never forfeit.