by John Wilkes Score Booth
Dee Licious has gotten knocked down right in front the score booth. From my vantage point up on the stepladder, I have a direct line of sight as her head smacks against the floor. As she slowly stands up I can see that her eyes are spinning around like reels in a slot machine.
It was a rough hit and we're all a little concerned, including Dee. She returns to the home team bench to let the EMTs check her out because of pain in her jaw, but after a few minutes they give her the okay and she's back on the rink.
Later at the Grasshopper, I paint a Looney Toons-esque picture for Dee of her eyes rolling around in their sockets. She thinks this is hilarious. She lets out a big laugh, then abruptly stops and puts her hand to her cheek, letting out a soft little "ow."
My only regret this evening is that I didn't have any romantic music to play while Inna Propriate asked Doom Hilda to be her derby wife. I'll have to download something timeless and poignant, like Peter Cetera's "Glory of Love", just in case this happens again.
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