Smol Women

Prologue

The air was warm, the sky full of stars, and the world full of midgets. In wonderful Sunrise, Florida, people were abuzz with anticipation for the hockey game that night, between the Florida Panthers and the Vegas Golden Knights.

In a home nestled along the shore of one of Sunrise's many waterways, a small family bustled about in preparation for the game.

"Selena, where are my leopard print leggings?" came an urgent voice. It belonged to Tank, Sunrise's most interesting resident, to say the least.

"I burned those god-awful things," a voice from upstairs, Selena's, replied.

With an ear-piercing screech, Tank (naked) turned away and hurried back to his room to continue his search for an outfit to wear to the game.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom upstairs, Selena was determinedly curling her hair, trying not to imagine what kind of outfit Tank would throw together this time.

Half-an-hour later, and the two were ready to go. While Selena wore a simple blouse and black jeans, Tank had opted for something more... extravagant.

He wore baby-blue mom jeans with a cropped white t-shirt and a baby-pink spaghetti strap thrown over top. On his head he wore a pink bucket hat, and on his feet white platform Filas.

Selena groaned, "Can't you wear something normal? For once?"

Tank did not reply. Instead, he clenched his fists and strained so hard that veins popped out of his neck and forehead. Finally, a wet fart squirted out of his anus.

"Fine," Selena sighed, opening the door to leave. "Let's just go."

The two stepped out into the humid evening air and got into Selena's amazing black Range Rover. They pulled out of the driveway and made their way to the BB&T Center for the game.

"I really hope we see Max Sloan," Tank murmured dreamily, staring out the window of the car.

Selena glanced sideways at him, "Well, he's playing in the game... so yeah, we will."

Tank ripped a toot and smiled, "Ugh, I'm so excited!" He kicked his feet back and forth from where he sat in his children's car seat.

"Staawwwp!" Selena whined, struggling to pay attention to the road.

Eventually they made it to the arena, and Selena brought the car to a screeching halt at the valet entrance.

The two hopped out and Selena whipped her keys at the nearest valet attendant.

"Let's fucking go," Tank meowed. Together they strutted into the arena through the VIP entrance and made their way to their front row seats at the glass.

"God I am so ready for this hockey game," Selena gasped, staring at the ice that was being smoothed by two Zambonis.

"I know. I want to marry it and have kids with it," Tank agreed.

After what felt like forever, the lights came on and 11 ELEVEN by Hitchhiker blasted from the speakers.

"Oh my god here they come!" Tank screamed.

The fans were on their feet cheering as both the Vegas and Florida players skated onto the ice to begin warmup.

Suddenly Selena screamed too. "Oh my god! It's him!" She pointed to a player on Florida wearing number 68. Mitch Hoffenmayer. He skated by and tapped on the glass, waving at her and Tank.

"There he is..." Tank said stoically. "The man, the myth, the legend... The Hoff."

"He's so dreamy," Selena sighed, watching him skate laps and shoot pucks.

"There's only one dreamy man I care about, and that's Max Sloan," Tank snapped, narrowing his eyes to gaze across to the other side of the ice.

There, just distantly, Tank could make out the number 61 on one player's back. It was him! Maximus Sloanus!