It all comes to a boiling point, as the Bengtzings hit crossroads. What will come out of this?

quotes in (()) means Swedish Language is being utiziled.

Featuring contributions by:
MigeYeFoxe (Kresta Renstill)
Kyuji (Regulus Lowenthal)
Kingsley Bun (Christian Ashbury)
dcrest13 (William King)
Bengtzing family property of mine.
Go check out the furrybasketball world!

==============================

March 31st

The defeat at the hands of the Spectrums was a tough pill to swallow, but for the rookie bigfur, the ordeal left him indifferent. He always felt the core staff at the defending champions’ team was one of the strongest of the league; the combo Onca/Schlacter one he respected and tried to study head to toe to up his own personal skills. But this day had another factor to it: A certain polecat’s birthday. Normally he’d be head over heels with boasting about his father and how great he’d be around this day, but all the tension about his scars with him turned their relation especially sour this year. It was less about his progress and success and more about how was he dealing in the locker rooms and the hounding press, always asking “Is it still safe?” whenever he called. The younger polecat eventually phased him out, completely ignoring his calls around February or so. He was absolutely out of it when it came to his family… which killed him at the same time it relieved him.

The polecat sat on the bench, still donning his uniform, ignoring the chit-chatter from the rest whilst toying with his phone. Could he? Should he? This could have been his first Bengtzing birthday without even acknowledging anyone there; even if they were distanced, he’d at least shower his household with messages, just like he was used to. And now he was here waffling in even send a message to the birthday polecat.

Meanwhile in Jersey City, a couple of hours later than in Billings, a mustelid couple entered their home after a night out celebrating the patriarch's birthday. “Thanks again for the date, honey. You know how to please your man...” Ferdinand commented.

Michelle scoffed. “Unlimited tab just for you, one of those sporty, yet upscale places you love... it was easy...” reply that made him raise a brow and made her giggle. “...No worries hon. Kind of a bummer that Sterling’s team lost, but I’m sure they all had fun regardless...”

Ferdinand sighed. “I can not help thinking that… he has not even said anything to us...”

The female mustelid sighed. “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten about today, Nandy. And again, this rough patch is tough, but knowing him, he’ll be fine. We’ll be fine...”

As Michelle went to the kitchen to serve herself some water, Ferdinand noticed his phone buzzing with a message, habitual as it was today. The name that flashed on the screen shocked him at first, but relief filled the polecat’s soul soon enough.

Sterling: “Grattis på födelsedagen, pappa.”

The elder polecat smiled. Finally he contacted him. Ferdinand thought of calling him, but refrained. It would probably be better to leave him at his rhythm for tonight. ((“I guess you are right, Michelle… Everything will be fine...”)) he told himself.

((“You know...”)) the female voice breaking his concentration and making his ears perk up, followed by Michelle tauntingly stroking her tail alongside his muzzle, evidently flirting.

((“Clock says that it’s still your birthday… or it can be until the sun comes up...”)) Michelle winked cheekily. ((“After all… you just said I know these kind of things...”))

For Ferdinand, this was going to be a good night after all.

--
April 20th

It was deep in the night. It wasn't long before the Howlers arrived at their swanky hotel in Manhattan in order to settle down as the impending game loomed over them. With their divisional lead at risk, they had to bring out everything.

On a certain polecat’s mind, the mission was wildly different. It was the only time he had the chance this season to be in his hometown. Not only the opportunity to make a lasting impression, but, if he wanted, tie all the loose ends he had going on once and for all. After showing up his roommate and fellow mustelid buddy LaShawn around the town, the polecat ditched the hotel in the middle of the night and started to make his way to Jersey City. Knowing them, he was sure to find them; being a local, he was sure to find the quickest way to navigate around that great concrete Jungle.

Donning a band-themed hoodie, his hair tucked in, he was assured to blend perfectly in the ruckus, still alight even at 11 PM.

“Ja…Ja… Pretty close...”

After crossing the state line and the Hudson, finding his old home was piece of cake; the more modern looking apartment sticking out like a sore thumb for the usual local, but conspicuous enough to not make the Bengtzings seem as flaunting. Ferdinand always opted for simplicity, splitting his FBA riches very frugally and responsibly. Reaching down his pocket, he grabbed his key

“Huh… the door key’s still work… Glad they haven’t kicked me out.” he snickered, looking over at the seemingly empty house. He knew his parents were night owls, so they would surely were… “Watching TV in the living before sleeping, like always...” Sterling thought. Making his way slowly, he went in the room.

“How’re ya doin, guys?” the sly polecat turned around the corner, to surprise the pair.

“STERLING!” Michelle yelled in disbelief first, stepping up and running to hug his son. “Vad har du haft för dig?!”

“Inte mycket, samma som vanligt...” Sterling replied nonchalantly as he looked over Ferdinand, receiving him with the same gesture.

“We have been worried sick, Sterling. I know you might be busy, but drop a call to us when you can. We have not missed any games, you are doing great!” Ferdinand nodded, patting Sterling’s back.

Sterling chuckled awkwardly at his father, his smile fading. “Ja, ja… about that…” he directed his parents to the couch where they were sitting before. “We have to talk...” The younger mustelid sat down in front of them, elbows on his knees.

“Sure honey, tell us...” Michelle replied, noting the concern. Ferdinand on the other hand, had a hunch where this was going, looking over worryingly at his son.

Sterling opened his mouth a few times before continuing with his part. “For years you urged me not say anything, so much awkwardness and secrecy, even from me… You guys are not wanting to tell me what is going on with me. Why am I like… you know. And… I’m tired of it. I want to know what’s wrong with me...” he looked up, an icy leer in his eyes. “I want an explanation.” they wanted to answer, but the younger mustelid cut them off. “And no one is going out until I get one...”

“Sterling… I...” his mother fumbled on her words, not knowing what exactly to answer.

“Mom, why do I have to hide this from everyone and what are you hiding from me?” he asked calmly but firmly.

Ferdinand interjected. “Sterling, this is for your goo-”

“Argh, Jävla helvete!” the younger mustelid blurted out, waving his hand dismissively to the couple’s shock. “I want an answer and I want it now!” In his frustration, he pulled up his hoodie sleeve, to show his scarred arm. “What IS this? Why do I have to hide it?”

“Sterling, why you do not have your sleeve on?” Ferdinand glared.

“Not my point! Tell me now!” the polecat demanded as he stood up, staring down at his father. “I’m sick of this shit!”

“I am not going to be disrespected, young man!” Ferdinand curtly replied, stepping up as well.

“But fuck’s sure I will, ain’t it so? Ain’t it so?!” Sterling bared his fangs.

“Sluta skrika!” the sudden voice silencing the two polecats. “Stop! Stop now!” Michelle cried, trying her best for this to not blow up any worse than it was. Once the two men took a breather in the tense silence that followed, she looked over at her son. “Sterling...We’ll tell you everything...”

“Michelle!”

“Ferdinand, it’s time.” Michelle stressed. “Sterling deserves to know!”

The elder polecat took a deep breath, remembering what he was told several times before, that this moment would come and, now that his own blood was there in first-person becoming hostile against him, it seemed Ferdinand couldn’t evade it anymore. “...Very well...Take a seat, Sterling...”

The polecat was suspicious, yet oddly accomplished. His mother disappeared upstairs for a while, leaving the two to glare at themselves. Michelle returned with a big book, a photo album of sorts.

“We requested all the info we could when that happened...” she commented, browsing through the pages.

“When what happened?”

“You were very young...” Ferdinand started. “...It was horrible..”

“You were three, your dad was out of town in an away game run...” she continued, as she was sure her husband would have a tougher time to explain, being the one most opposed to brief this to anyone. In one of the pages there was not only various newspaper cuttings, but also photos of the incident that, while some were damaged by time, it clearly showed a baby polecat with bandages and tubes up the brim. Sterling took a moment to digest all this new info, and how it all made sense in some way. Michelle even showed Sterling where did her wrist broke due to the crash, he came to know everything: The crash, the prognosis, the rehab, what they did and why they did it. It all suddenly felt much less frivolous.

“The vehicle in front of us lost control, you were… left unconscious in the car...” she added.

“The days after the accident we were not sure what could have happened. We could have lost you, Sterling!” Ferdinand stressed.

While it was a lot of facts to digest, the young polecat felt… free, of sorts. After all those years, he knew what came to him, what did he have, all of that secrecy and deals had a resolution.

“So.. this is why all of this...”

“Yes, Sterling...”

“Well.. thanks for finally splainin me, guys...” he nodded. “I get it all now, and now it’ll be a breeze to come out and finally explain all of this shi-”

“Nej”

“...What?” Sterling said as flatly.

Ferdinand leered at his son. ((“This is delicate stuff Sterling! We can’t go out and say it, your career might be done for!”))

Sterling frowned at his father. ((“There are a LOT of players with worse stuff going on with the-”))

((“And the medical records?”))

Sterling stopped talking for a second. ((“We… we can explain those, easy!”))

((“They won’t get it! You will get out of the league!”))

((“Let m-”))

((“I’ve been in the business for more than 10 years! Your career is dead if it comes out!”)) Ferdinand snarled. ((“You think you can handle this, but this is bigger than you, Sterling Eren!”))

The younger polecat fell silent, yet despondent, angst filling up his body.

((“This is NOT the way to deal with this! Just...”)) Ferdinand sighed. ((“Just head out and go to sleep, we’ll talk about this later”))

Sterling was going to retort, but the mixed feelings of his career versus his condition came at full blast again. He held his head in a migraine, storming to his room in the house. “Fucking… argh!”

The air was tense as they both looked over his kid going away. “It is hard… but it’s for his own good...” Ferdinand breathed in deeply.

“Ferdinand… look at him. Do YOU think that’s for his own good?” his wife questioned.

((“It’s much more tha-”))

“English...”

“Huh?”

“We are not being heard, stop it with that!” she commanded. “Last year I just saw Sterling being held hostage with this idea that his body is… some sort of flawed and wrong and it’s killing me! This is NOT healthy, Ferdinand! He only wants realization!”

“And he will-”

“What do you always tell him?”

“What do you mean?” he questioned.

“The thing you told him always since he has memory? Stay truth to yourself regardless? He is trying to do that, and yet WE’VE been holding him down for this… ”

Ferdinand fell silent, which Michelle took the opportunity to continue. “...Sterling wants to feel fulfilled, he didn’t want this! I’m sure stuff has changed and we can get through this and get help! But nothing will change if you keep using this against him, when he needs support over this… He needs to know his father feels proud of him…”

“I am pr-”

“Ferdinand, you asked him over his sleeve than his own self first. You are making him feel you are ashamed of him!” Michelle looked over, her tone softening. “This was maybe for his protection a long time ago, when we were young and didn’t know what to do… but now you’re using this to torment him… I’m not going to say him to blurt it out to the world, not until his father knows a lesson about this and realizes he needs to do what's really best for his son and not for himself for a change...”

With that, she went upstairs, going over Sterling’s room. The elder polecat sat on the couch, mulling over all of this.

“Herrejävlar...” he exclaimed to himself, rubbing his temples, a migraine coming throigh.

April 21st

As the team got into the bus and drove to the stadium's training facilities, the Howlers got suspicions about the oddity of the morning: From the pickup place to the facilities, they noticed Sterling was nowhere to be seen. While they were busy in their own drills, they hope they didn't have to do a last minute changeup.

The two Vegas players hanged out in a corner of the gym. "What do you think happened to Sterls?" Regulus asked to a busy Kresta.

"No idea," the silver fox shrugs. "it's not like it's too uncommon for him to go off the rails for a bit. I wouldn't worry too much about it, though. He has a history of acting up, not on ditching. I wouldn't think Sterling would miss any game, not with fighting for division lead is so tight right now. He'd probably say losing that title would be 'so basic'."

"Prolly, but he IS also here with us whenever trainin comes by. What makes today or this place weird? Well, besides hometown, but still..." Regulus sighed, which came across a sort of half-hoot. "...Maybe we should try to prod around on lunchtime, when we are free to roam. If anything we deserve an explanation, dont'cha think? Better us than Lemond or Frankthin..."

"Yeah, probably. I suppose for some people running around your old haunts may seem desirable. Trick, though, would be where would we even think to look for him in this place? I suppose if we knew which school he went to or what exact neighborhood he went to. Definitely will want to tell the coach where we're going, wouldn't want even more of the team coming to search this place for wayward players," Kresta half laughs at the last part.

"I think... I have a hunch at a site. We go there, if he is or isn't, cool we just wait and see what we do. You up, teammie?" Regulus asked.

"Sure, why not. I'm sure it'll be fun," Kresta states, somewhat sarcastically.

As the two Ex-Wildcards walked by the streets of New York, in between the lunch and the eventual recognition by some pedestrians, the gryphon's hunch still leading the pair through the city. They turned their heads to some furs who seemed their age and height pass by.

"Sterling's back, Rocco? You bullshittin?"

"Ya bet, c'mon make it quick!"

Regulus only shot a look at his friend.

"Well I guess that's as good a sign as to where he is as any. Might as well follow," Kresta comments.

The pair followed the guys as incognito as two current FBAers could muster, leading them to the crowded, loud and vibrant Rucker park. It was well kept, urban and lively they might add.

"You see Sterling somewhere?" Reggie asked. And speak of the devil, a guttural metal scream as a taunt surfaced from the court.

"Well I guess where else would a basketball player be in their free time. Question is, now, do we try and be sneaky in getting his attention without drawing attention to ourselves? Do we just report back to coach or should we just boldly walk up and demand his attention?"

Sterling dribbled the ball, breaking the ankles of the fellow player, sending him to the ground, going for a thunderous dunk, for the applause of a couple. "For fuck's sake I waited... THIS fuckin' long to get with ya guys again." the polecat bellowed.

"C'mon, All-Star Week wasn't long ago. Ya still owe us for not dunkin with us."

"Hey, fuck off Carlo, yanno I said the fam first, you guys later. No big am I right? Plus, tickets and the chance to catcall The Queen. What more ya thirsty ass wants?"

"Yah I guess as suc-"

"Sterls! Ya might wanna look at this!" The big binturong asked, exposing the two Howlers to Sterling and the rest.

"...The fuck?"

"We got a babe and a pillow..." Rocco jested.

"A pillow? That's the best you got? Makes 'feather duster' sound like a masterpiece. Sterls teach you that one, or you come up with that on your own?"

The binturong glared, leaning over Regulus. “Now ya think you funny?” getting his face close to the player.

"I don't think I'm funny," the gryphon replied, tail curling around his leg. "I know I am."

"Well, looks like the game is up," Kresta shrugs in an elaborate manner before just casually walking forward as if nothing at all was an issue. "You don't call, you don't write. Hell I was just starting to think that you didn't like us. So we figured we'd just hop on down and do a little house call in our free time."

"Didn't tell me you had a babe in the team Sterling! How often you smash?"

"Rocco, shut up. Do the others know about this?"

"They know you're tardy." Regulus added. "We two just took on the task before the team management does. Why doin' so?"

"Why not, Reggie? Got the time, got the pals, I am trainin up as much as you do in a drill settin'. Guys I'm fine and ready for the game..." Sterling shrugged. "...What's wrong with a day on the hometown?"

"Nothing, really, but you didn't think you could've told me or Kres where you were going first? Or something? We thought you'd skipped town! Frankthin was ready to have a conniption fit!" the gryphon huffed.

"Well beyond the fact that not showing up to practice without leave could be grounds for them to bench you. Contracts are annoying in that regard. That and remember we are some men down..." Kresta nodded.

"As long as is only one time and I got ya on my side, guess they won't mind. They won't even notice I left..."

Rocco stepped up. "And they won't notice when you come to my crib at the end of the game, babe..." the tall bearcat tried to catcall the vixen.

Kresta rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like you'd have an actual chance. How about this? You versus me on the deep line, first to 10 shots. You win, I give you a little peck on the cheek. I win, you get to have all your friends see you being shown up by 'a little girl'?"

“Deal. Let me pluck a chicken and then we’ll have a nice nightcap...” Rooc said, turning to Regulus.

"Gee, haven't heard ​that​ one since grade school..." the hybrid clucked indignantly. "So you actually gonna play or just sit there talking?"

“Bring it on, kid...”

In a welcome twist, the ‘visitng’ Howlers seemed to really click with Sterling's friends. Using the time to train, the symbiosis of styles really paid off. Steling’s teammates seemed satisfied with the leisure, especially the nigh flawless 10-2 the vixen scored on the bearcat big.

"Well that was certainly fun," Kresta laughs, "Though in all seriousness, Sterling, going off on your own to hang with friends is good and all, but it isn't good to leave everyone just wondering where you all went. Call us before going off."

"No worries, babe..." his speech patterns shone through. "I just figured why waste the time running on a treadmill in a confined space when I can reunite with the pals here and get the ball going from the get go, amirite?"

"Guess as such. But c'mon a notice next time… It won’t kill ya or make ya ‘basic’" Regulus added.

Sterling rolled his eyes. "Fine, but the pull of the city's legendary, Reggie. You'd get it... Plus, I still have time!"

Kresta looks down at her phone for a sec, "Well, looks like that time is now up. We need to get back to actual drills. Make sure you're back sooner rather than later, game can’t wait for long"

"Ja, Kres. Lemme fix up some things real quick and I'll be back to ya"

"As you say Sterls, we hope you at least bring it tonight" Reggie chimed in.

"Pfft, of course. I got the home court by my side!" he laughed, pointing at his friends. "I'll be back for the important team stuff..."
_____

The locker room was filling up ready to start talking about the game plan. As the roll call started off, the polecat appeared into the stadium after his marked absence. He threw his stuff into his locker and began to prep up for the game.

Christian, already dressed, looked at the polecat. "And where the fuck were you?"

Sterling turned over his fellow rookie teammate. "It's NYC, I just had to get the hometown feel to get ready for the game..." Sterling sighed contently. "Training with the pals at Rucker, gettin them tickets, the whole shindig"

The shrimp scoffed. "You know what would better help you get ready for the game? Practicing on the fucking court you're going to be playing on."

The polecat frowned. "So I missed runnin on a treadmill and liftin weights. Big deal, I'm here for the plannin and the team deals. I just had to check on the squad" Sterling shrugged. "If that's a sin, so kill me"

"You're a fucking professional athlete, you should start fucking acting like it." Christian sat down on the bench to put on his shoes. "Maybe start by following through on your responsibilities to your team before running off on your own."

The polecat shrugged. "You ever find a pal or someone important, would you just say fuck em and forget where you came from once you find success?" he asked back.

"No, but guess what, you still have responsibilities, one of which is to attend practice. It's not like you don't have time between practice and the game, or after the bloody game to go see your 'squad'."

"If this fucks up my game, I'll take the shot, but win or lose, you'll see I'm as good as I always let on, if not better. This is hometurf for me, man, so let's get this train rollin'"

"'If this fucks up your game'? Are you fucking serious?" Christian stood suddenly, moving towards the polecat, his hands waving. "You're not playing fucking solo, mate. You're on a bloody team! If your game is fucked up or off in some way, it throws the entire team off. Do you have no sense of bloody responsibility?"

Sterling just cocked his head. "Well I do get along with the fellas here and get the trainin going every game, not really distracting anyone." he justified. "When some other teammies found me, we actually had a blast at Rucker." he remembered. "Hey I like you ain't as bulshitting as Morgan or the fuircake, but no need to worry about me Chris. The team's mojo's good"

Christian sighed, turning sharply away from Sterling. "We lose tonight," the shrimp said, walking towards the door, "it's on your bloody head."

Sterling had to admit his teammate had a point; they were a myriad of players down and facing a healthy Queens on their turf. “Sterling… win or lose, you gotta make the hometown proud, make em cheer for ya….” he thought. He was not going to lie, the fact they had Hiro and Lemond out meant that win was going to be challenging, but regardless, he was going to prove himself as the best of the court tonight. Don’t look back.

The game was as tightly contested as it could have been; the 6’ 9” mustelid playing the 5 against the 7’ 5” Song-Hwa. The polecat threw all distractions from yesterday away, focusing on the crowd. He knew deep down inside, despite the yellow uniform, some of them were rooting for the “local kid”. What followed was an unabashed Bengtzing taking charge of the game. His approach was different out of previous games, choosing to take more shots. The display of skill fueling the Howlers, short on players, but not on heart. As the second quarter came to a close, the captain of the Pride grabbed the polecat off-guard, stealing before he could take a shot.

“The Queen always goes for… the strongest...” he mulled over as he ran to collect the rebound, her shot not making it, the polecat’s section going wild as he took a last second shot, giving a one point lead to the visitors, giving himself some leeway to rile up on the audience. The Pride loved their team, but they sure wouldn’t mind a shoutout to the town wherever it came from. Sterling was making this one his game, and furs from all sides were feeling it.

They closed the third quarter with a hefty lead, so the Howlers had to go all the way. Unfortunately, the second half was showing it’s ugly side, as Wescot and Kresta got injured on their way (Rocco cussing out loudly at the Pride players for injuring his “babe”), putting more pressure on the visitors. The polecat kept doing his best, sinking shot after shot, trying to seal the deal. It was close until the end… but Maraundi failed to capitalize that last minute shot, effectively giving the home team the win, the polecat was seething with disappointment on the inside, but tried it’s best to keep himself collected. The crowd cheered on as, on an unlikely display from the mustelid, greeted the lioness, encouraging the crowd to cheer for Queen Val, who also had some support words for the rookie. The Howlers made their way to the locker room, the polecat taking another direction per usual, shuffling his stuff in a bag, ready to hit the hotel.

“Kid?”

Sterling’s ears perked at the familiar voice, looking up to an elder marbled polecat.

“Just wanted to see how you were doing...” he replied, with a knowing expression. “Great game out there…I’m proud of you. Watched every bit from my seat.”

“How did you get in here?” Sterling asked bluntly.

“New stadium, but they still respect their originals to tell them they can roam freely…”

The younger polecat was indifferent, choosing to leer and just nod at his father’s compliments while packing up his stuff.

“I am sorry, Sterling...”

Until that. Sterling looked back at Ferdinand, skeptical.

Unlike every instance this topic came, Ferdinand ditched the language change and kept going in English, as awkward as it felt. “I wanted to… protect us. I did not see things in a long run. And… you deserved to know before, you deserved to know WAY before about this… when I almost lost you, I almost went insane. I wanted to protect you… but it seems…” the polecat inhaled sharply, trying to compose himself. “...I just made it worse…”

Sterling sighed. “Why is this a big deal for you? Why should this be a big deal for me?” he asked with some bite to his tone.

The elder polecat fell silent for a while. “You know back and forth about my rookie year. How all my doors were closed just… because… I did not know how could have the accident affected you. Sterling, you could have been crippled for life!”

“But I wasn-”

“I wanted to open all doors for you… and I knew that those could hinder you. And you… would have it hard like me…”

“And you don’t think I’m having it fucking hard too? My own father fucking up with my mind-”

“I came here to say you were right…”

Sterling looked at his father, confused. “...Vad?”

“...It is better if we finally open up...” he looked aside, somewhat dejected. “...It is… hard… but it is the best way, for you.. for us. I do not want to push you away, like I have been doing for 20 years… We will get over this...”

Sterling was speechless. ((“Ho… How we’re going to?”)) the Swedish switch involuntary in his case, a mix of confusion and catharsis in his mind.

“I talked with Mr. King. He is wanting to check on his clients, maybe he can help us up a bit...” Ferdinand smiled.

Sterling only nodded, sighing of relief. It was going to happen… it was finally going to happen.

Ferdinand tapped his kid’s arm, chuckling. “Come on kid, you really got to shower, ride is waiting for us, and Mr. King will meet us in an hour...”

Sterling coughed a bit. ((“Dad… thanks...”))

Ferdinand turned around and smiled warmly, holding his son in a hug. “I am sorry. We will fix this, you will see...”

The pair went along to their Jersey home to get refreshed and ready to head to their meeting; Ferdinand’s button-down shirt heavily contrasting Sterling’s bulky, old hoodie. While he doubted his choice, he figured some kind of discretion would be nice, given the polecat just played a big game and would be supposed to get back soon.

“Terry’s, right?”

“Ja… There he is, isn’t he?”

“I SAID BUTTSTANK IS WITH ME, NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT NO FUCKING THING!” The bull yelled on his phone. “DON'T YA GET FUCKING SNAPPY WITH ME!”

The elder mustelid looked askew. ((“What did convince you to sign up with him out of all people?”))

((“He propped his guy to top 24 when some poor dumbass klutzed out AND got me a lottery pick! The ends justify the means, no?”))

((“I guess… Just be careful, Sterling.”))

One too-harsh greeting later, the trio went up and sat to disclose the procedure of it all. Ferdinand could see just what Sterling saw in this agent, goddamn they were alike. At least it wasn’t entirely impossible for him to disclose the issue to the agent at first, which was promptly pushed aside by the game talks.

“YOU DID WELL, REN NEEDS TO STEP HIS MOTHERFUCKING GAME IF HE WANTS A SHOT AT MORE MONEY!”

“If we fucking had our fellas, we woulda got them. They had to get fucking Kresta” Sterling added.

“If you excuse me, Mr. King. What do you have in mind for this… situation?” The mustelid stressed, starting to become anxious.

“Oh, easy thing, old man! Heard of the Body Issue?!”

“The naked people shit?” Sterling asked. “Ja, so?”

“YEAH THAT ONE! Ren got his fucking deal there and he got praise to the kazoo! Buttstank here’ll soar to the top like a hero once people see that shit! They eat that shit up!”

“And ya say it’ll turn this deal of mine to my profit?” Sterling grinned.

“YA BET, KID!”

Ferdinand crossed his arms. “I just think it might be too much…”

“Listen Mr. Bork Bork! It's the safest bet! Shoot, interview, clearup, done! Out of this shit in no time!” King cut Ferdinand. “I got the number of the fuckers and yer rep will be saved! What ya say?!”

“This is.. I just think this is crazy talk, Sterling I don’t… ugh...” the polecat laid his elbows on the table.

“Pappa, it’s a clean way. Sure a lot of bullshit to do, but it’ll kill the rumors and assure we get thru this. And anythin, I can handle this.”

“Listen old man...” the bull took his sunglasses off, prompting Ferdinand to check twice at his eye problem. “When… I got in this business, I too thought shit like… this woulda fucked me over…” King pointed to his lazy eye. “Got it on a bad match. But what did I do? Man up and face it. He might have his deals, but no one will give him shit. If they do… they gotta have to face me...” he said, his speech more slurred and hard to get, the polecat had to rely in his son to get some of the words. “WHICH IS A TERRIBLE FUCKING IDEA, YOU KNOW!?”

“Dad, it’s easy. I do that shit, explain it, the media won’t hound us, cuz we got it covered, ja?”

Ferdinand’s eardrums were in for a ride. “...Sure this will work?”

“BET YOUR ASS IT WILL!”

The elder mustelid mulled it over. “...Very well.”

“THEN IT’S SETTLED! WHEN THE SEASON’S DONE, YA OUGHTA DO THIS, KAY?”

“I’ll get you my requirements soon. If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do this shit right, hear me?” Sterling added. With the air more relaxed, the trio let themselves talking about the game, and how Sterling and the Howlers fared at the time. All the stress faded away, yet Sterling had this feeling on the back on his mind. A feeling of realization and content. As they got out, he noticed his dad somewhat distant, to what he approached him.

“It’s gonna be fine, you worry too much!” Sterling added.

The mustelid shrugged. “I can not help being worried about my kid. Hope you do not ever go what I went through with that accident, but you will get where I come from if you were in my shoes...”

The long-haired polecat sighed. ((“It won’t be a big deal, yes? If they attack us, we fight right back… Kalabalik, right?”))

Ferdinand looked over at his son, nodding. “Kalabalik, kid...”