You're in the front row watching one of your best friend's hockey games. Before the game began, you arrived early to witness the practice. Suddenly, a player from one of the teams came over to you. "I forgot my number. May I have yours?" You snicker, "That was smooth." And just as he was ready to speak, a hockey puck flies by and hits him in the back of the head.

"My bad," He said, as you turn to gaze at your best friend, Scaramouche, who was smirking as if he'd hit the guy on purpose.