Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes. Keep it as written, don't change a single word, but improve grammar where necessary.

Ten to five. But also ten to one, for that is the margin by which the Oilers may be favorites on the Las Vegas betting line going into tonight's game against the Florida Panthers. The Cats, having blown their last two chances to put the series to bed, must now return to Edmonton for Game 6. If they can rekindle the determination that had made them such a formidable force throughout the regular season, the courage with which they blazed a trail through the playoffs, they stand a chance to return the favor after suffering a humbling defeat on their home ice...a stick for a stick, a puck for a puck. But if they should fall short, as I am suspecting they will--and rarely in my life have I wanted to be proven wrong so badly on a presumption--their 3-0 lead that had once seemed almost insurmountable will have completely evaporated. They would have to face the Oilers in a winner-take-all Game 7, the one silver lining being that they get to play it at home. Because the Panthers had a better regular season record, they earned home ice advantage throughout the Stanley Cup Final. What better way to win the championship than to capture it in front of the South Florida fans, ripping the Canadians' hearts out of their chests in the process? It would not be the first time the Oilers have suffered a heartbreaking defeat in Game 7; in fact, eighteen years ago, they came up short against the Carolina Hurricanes under such circumstances, and had to play that game on the road as well. And while it was not quite the 0-3 deficit from which the Oilers have had to rally, they were down 1-3 before winning Games 5 and 6, shutting out the Canes 4-0 in Edmonton to force the deciding game. The Panthers still have a chance. It would be amazing if they can seal the deal tonight, but I would take a victory in Game 7 any day of the week, and twice on Sundays. Having already predicted the Oilers would win in 7, I am hoping against hope that I will soon be eating the most delicious humble pie I have ever tasted. Off in the distance, a door has been shut. I couldn't tell you who shut it, or even what door it was. That is, until I hear the door open and realize it is one of the bathroom doors. Most likely, it is the men's bathroom, and I would bet with more than 90% certainty that it is our oldest 'client' here at the Joshua House. Pots and pans clink in the distance, indicating breakfast will soon be served. Another house-mate articulates a thought to the best of her ability. It's becoming easier to discern her thoughts, having gotten more of a feel for the ways in which she processes the world around her, but other aspects of her communication remain as cryptic as the hieroglyphics on ancient monuments. I'm reminded of a rather frustrating bit of news I read recently, about a couple of climate activists who defaced the venerable Stonehenge with orange powder paint, to send a message of protest on behalf of the "Just Stop Oil" movement, which is attempting to pressure the incoming U.K. government to work with other governments to agree on an equitable plan to end the extraction and burning of oil, coal, and gas by 2030. Fortunately, the stone circle was not visibly damaged by the paint, and it should be possible to study the glyphs on those stones; I am not sure if the same ones responsible for the defacing of Stonehenge were also responsible for the recent defacing of private jets after storming an airfield at the London Stansted Airport. A quick DuckDuckGo search of "just stop oil orange paint" unfortunately does not reveal any kooks who have a strange vendetta against oil orange paint and want to have it banned forever, but does shed some light on other kooks who have engaged in other acts of vandalism. The short list: a recent smashing of the glass surrounding Britain's historic Magna Carta that was reported on by CNN (among other news outlets) two days ago, and several incidents from 2022 involving a Harrods shopfront, the premises of a Rolex store, and various buildings in central London (including Home Office, MI5, News UK, and Bank of England buildings). Getting back to the Stonehenge situation, the most surprising aspect is not so much the gall of the protesters to deface an ancient monument, but the striking resemblance of the younger of the two responsible for the Stonehenge incident to a young Daniel Radcliffe; he would probably be better served to compete in Harry Potter lookalike contests. He's an Oxford student who apparently has some time to kill during summer break; if I am reading the 'dates of term' on the University of Oxford website correctly, Trinity 2024 (the third of three terms, the first two being Michaelmas and Hilary) concluded on Saturday, June 15. The other is in his seventies, a Baby Boomer who has probably forgotten more than the youngster will ever learn, but may not be much wiser than his young charge. They have sent a message out to the public at large, and gained some notoriety for themselves in the process, but at what cost? Only time will tell whether the government honors their wishes. As the breakfast call becomes more imminent, I've put on my socks and shoes. But it still feels like something is missing. Then it dawns on me: "my blue cap." Capless in Boca Raton no longer, I sit down to account for some more of my thoughts, as the same girl from before continues to communicate her emotions. I cannot tell if she is distressed or happy as her emotions on a given day run the gamut. Some days, she appears to be upset; I can see it in her eyes, even if her tone never shifts in that direction. Perhaps it would if her inhibitions were taken away. She is floating through this life as best as she possibly can. She did not ask for a condom to break. She didn't ask for the situation she is in. None of us did. But all of us are here in this world and, for now, here at this house. And as long as I'm here, I resolve to not let my emotions get the better of me. Yesterday, a young CNA who had also been here the previous Thursday and Friday--the same one who seemed to be fascinated with my typing speed, though it does him no good to have such fascination if he can't use it to help me land a job where I can put the skill to use--came late in the afternoon to earn a few dollars for himself. I was expecting him to show up at my door at 4:30pm, having done the same thing both days last week. Anticipating an expectation on his part that I "knew the drill" and would take care of it without any prompting, I decided to take a shower shortly afterwards, and when I came out of the bathroom he said "hello" to me, inspecting my ankles to see if I had showered. He seems to have trust issues with people, for despite seeing me wearing a blue bathrobe, he decided to feel my skin for traces of water last week. He seems like a nice enough youngster. After returning to my room to change into some casual clothes, he knocks on my door. I ask him what it is in regards to. "What?" I tell him that there's no lock on the door, and he can feel free to open it as he wants. He decides to wait until I'm dressed, likely not wanting to deprive me of what little dignity I still retain. I open the door. He asks me what time I took the shower. "4:30pm." He checks his phone to see the time (4:54pm now) and asks me to let him know in the future if I plan to take a shower. "Okay," I respond. To me, it is not worth the trouble for a kid who only shows up two days out of seven a week. I realize he has to write everything down for his supervisors, that he is dealing with expectations. The last thing I want is to make his life difficult. The little I ask of him is to be treated with respect. Contrary to whatever he may believe, he is no better in God's eyes than any of the people he's caring for, and could just as easily find himself in the same predicament one day. Whether he sees my worth or not, I will assert my independence to the best of my ability, as long as I am here.