As soon as all the passengers are boarded and the cabin doors are closed and armed, Indy and I lock up the galley, ensuring everything is secure for takeoff. And as we do, the most magical, beautiful thing that has ever happened in my four years of flying occurs. Simultaneously, every one of the suited-up hockey players stands from their seats and begins to strip down until the only thing that’s covered is their junk. “Sweet mother of—” I drift off, unable to speak, my eyes bugged out of my head. “What. Is. Happening?” Indy asks in the same daze, her mouth gaped. The entire back half of the
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