"You're on Puck Daddy," Taylor said, instead of a greeting. Sidney sank back into the pillows. "So? What's new?" "The headline is 'Best Hockey Player in the World Sidney Crosby Taken Out by Eight Year Old, Breaks Arm in Mite Hockey Game.'"

"Sid," Geno said, jogging down the stairs two days later. "You not like jizz. Is like shoes thing, or like chunky peanut butter thing?" Sidney had strong feelings about his shoes, but he grudgingly acknowledged that manufacturers continued to issue updated models every few months, so his running shoes were never quite the same even though he always bought the same brand and style. Chunky peanut butter, on the other hand, was inviolate. You did not fuck with the chunky peanut butter. Or, as I titled the document, Jizz: a love story.

"Better, yes?" Geno said at last. "Do what Sid likes." "I don't know what I like," Sidney whined. "Find out," Geno said. "Is okay. My dick here for you."