'Scheisse,' Gilbert cursed to himself. How could he forget about today? He usually tread carefully on days such as these, sneaking downstairs for a beer every once in a while, avoiding the Canadian as much as possible. If Matthew caught him then he would be trapped for the remainder of the evening.

He was standing in the kitchen, beer forgotten in his hand, a Canadian bustling around him excitedly. Matthew was grabbing all the snack food they owned. He was wearing his normal jeans with a large blue and white jersey one. Today was the big game between the Montreal Canadiens and the Vancouver Canucks and Gilbert just happened to live with the world's biggest hockey fan.

As Matthew carried the many bowls of food out into their spacious living room Gilbert fished out his phone and send a quick text. To Al: help me!!

He didn't have to wait long before it buzzed back. To Gilbo: What do you need?

To Al: Come and save me! Keep me company!!

To Gilbo: Why do you need---- HELL NO!! THERE IS A HOCKEY GAME TODAY! I VALUE MY LIFE THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!

Gilbert stared at his phone with a frown. To Al: Thanks for the help man.

To Gilbo: Guard your loins.

'Come on Gil! The game is about to start!' The voice that called from the living room echoed in Gilbert's mind as he stared down at his phone. Only Alfred would put a smiley face when concerning a life threatening event like this. Gilbert took a long drink of the beer in his hand and walked into the living room. Matthew already had the pregame on the television and was sitting on their giant black leather sofa. The announcers were speaking English which made him sigh in relief. He knew enough French to follow but the French announcers used so much Canadian slang that Gilbert could barely follow the commentary, instead watching Matthew as he reacted.

'So you're for the Canadiens today?' he asked as he plopped down next to the other.

'The Maple Leaves were out early and despite making it far, the Canucks haven't been playing up to par,' Matthew explained, cuddling up to Gilbert's side. That was one good thing about the pregame. Once the game started Gilbert had a hard time hearing it over the Canadian yelling, let alone hold on to him.

When the game started Gilbert blankly watched the players race back and forth across the ice. He had long learned to tune out Matthew's rants during the game. He chuckled as two of the players slammed into each other, starting a fight between them.

'Come on Ref! Let the players fight!' Matthew yelled as the two were harshly separated. Gilbert smiled at the silliness of yelling at a television but then again, he tended to do the same during a soccer game.

Gilbert hadn't realized that he had zoned out until Matthew bumped into him, jostling his comfortable position. What Gilbert saw terrified him. A quick look at the TV confirmed his horror.

The fans in the stands were all on their feet, yelling in two separates languages. The scoreboard flashed a tie with only a minute left. Gilbert managed to hear the words 'sudden death' over the din. Matthew, at some point, had left the room and found his favourite hockey stick.

'Birdie…?' Gilbert asked hesitatingly. Matthew ignored him, his attention drawn to the game before him. Every single cell in Gilbert's body screamed for him to run but at the same time he was afraid to move, worried about the Canadian's reaction.

Gilbert gulped as everything seemed to slow. The puck shot across the ice, the red light came on and the buzzer sounded.

'How could you let that shot in? What was that?' Matthew yelled as all the Canuck fans celebrated. Gilbert glanced in his direction and paled even more at the sight of Matthew white knuckling the hockey stick.

Matthew let out a steady stream of French words that even Francis would pale at. 'Merde! Mon Dieu!' Matthew yelled again. Gilbert gulped once more and looked for an escape.

'Birdie? Are you alright?' Gilbert questioned tentatively. He froze his slow inching away as violet eyes turned on him. He knew that look. Matthew was on a war path and Gilbert was in his crosshairs. Gilbert stood, slowly raising his hands, All his instincts were screaming to run. 'Birdie, calm down. It's just a hockey game.'

Something snapped in Matthew's eyes. 'Just a hockey game? It is never just a hockey game.' Matthew seemed to raise his hockey stick, making Gilbert's panic level rise to new heights.

'Es tut mir leid,' Gilbert managed to articulate, taking a step back and nearly falling on his ass. Matthew followed his every move, tensing.

With a long stream of French, Matthew pounced forward, Gilbert barely managing to duck and avoid the powerful hockey swing. He yelped and took off across the living room, throwing back apologies in a mixture of German and English while insults and anything praising hockey were hurdled back his way in French and English. Gilbert made a note to remember: Never insult a Canadian's hockey, especially if they have a hockey stick.