I heard that they're a riot
Quack! Quack! Quack! Goooo Ducks!
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by Shofercia » Wed Apr 22, 2015 5:31 pm
by Coffee Cakes » Wed Apr 22, 2015 5:43 pm
by Shofercia » Wed Apr 22, 2015 6:37 pm
by Ontorisa » Wed Apr 22, 2015 6:46 pm
by Jello Biafra » Thu Apr 23, 2015 10:54 am
by Camicon » Thu Apr 23, 2015 6:32 pm
Country of glowing hearts, and patrons of the artsThe Trews, Under The Sun
Help me out
Star spangled madness, united sadness
Count me out
by Ontorisa » Thu Apr 23, 2015 6:37 pm
by Shofercia » Thu Apr 23, 2015 6:53 pm
NHL Headquarters. Connor McDavid is escorted into Commissioner Gary Bettman’s office. Bettman’s secretary opens the office door.
Secretary: “Mr. Bettman is waiting for you inside.”
Connor McDavid walks in and the door closes behind him. He sees Gary Bettman and another man he doesn’t immediately recognize. Each man sits in a chair at the center of the office, around an ornate, wooden table. A third chair is empty. It awaits Connor.
Bettman: “Come in, Connor. There is someone I would like you to meet.”
Connor steps toward the two men and Bettman rises to shake his hand.
Bettman: “Connor, I would like you to meet Liam Neeson.”
Liam Neeson stands up and extends his right hand. Connor takes it and tries not to wince at the firm, death lock grip. Neeson gives Connor a wry Irish smirk.
Neeson: “You have a good handshake, son. I have heard great things about you.”
McDavid: “Thank you sir.”
Bettman: “You are wondering why you are here…” McDavid politely nods his head. “How did you feel when you learned the Edmonton Oilers had won the number one overall pick in the upcoming NHL draft?”
McDavid pauses. He knows what the politically correct answer is, but…
Bettman: “It is okay, Connor. Speak freely.”
McDavid takes a deep breath. “Like I was kicked in the nuts…sir.”
Bettman smiles. Liam Neeson’s expression hardens.
Bettman: “That is why you are here. Liam?”
Neeson leans forward toward McDavid. Connor sits up straighter.
Neeson: “We are going to rescue you from Craig MacTavish and the Oilers.”
McDavid’s expression notes his confusion. Rescue me, he thinks…rescue?
Neeson: “Mr. Bettman and the NHL have decided it is not in your nor their best interest for you to play in Edmonton. So, we are going to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
There is a knock at the office door.
Bettman: “Come in!”
The door opens and Bettman’s secretary walks in. She carries a tray with three glasses, filled with some clear liquid.
Secretary: “They just arrived Mr. Bettman. I poured them immediately as you instructed.” She places the tray and drinks on the table. “Can I get you gentlemen anything else?”
Bettman says no. The secretary turns and walks out, closing the door behind her. Bettman grabs the first glass and hands it to Neeson, the second to McDavid. He raises the third glass.
Bettman: “To your future, Connor.”
Neeson takes a drink as does Bettman. Connor takes a sniff. Odd odor. He takes a sip. It is sour and pungent.
McDavid: “What is this, sir?”
Bettman: “That, young man, is a delicacy. We rarely get a batch of this volume so quickly. It usually takes years, sometimes decades to gather enough to enjoy. In fact, the last time we were able to collect this much in a matter of hours was 1999.”
McDavid: “I don’t understand, sir.”
Bettman: “This,” Bettman holds up the glass again, “are the tears of Buffalo Sabres fans.”
Neeson: “A true delight.”
Bettman: “Indeed! Now, to business. Liam, let the young man know how we will make this right.”
Neeson: “I will be heading to Craig MacTavish’s home after this meeting. I will use my…persuasiveness to ensure he agrees to a trade of the number one overall pick.”
McDavid: “How will you do that, Mr. Neeson?”
Neeson: “Our undercover operative has already penetrated MacTavish’s residence. He is there with him now, he has him ready for my presence.”
Bettman sees McDavid is even more confused.
Bettman: “Bill Daly went to MacTavish’s house and got him drunk.”
Neeson: “Right! And I will do the rest.”
McDavid: “What will you do, sir?”
Neeson looks at Bettman. Bettman nods his head to indicate Neeson can tell McDavid the plan.
Neeson: “I will tell MacTavish a team has offered highly skilled young offensive forward Glenn Anderchuck, highly skilled young offensive forward Marc Massacre and highly skilled young offensive forward Wayne Gretzhower for the first overall pick.”
McDavid looks bewildered. He looks at Bettman and then at Neeson. They both nod their head in acknowledgment of his confusion.
Bettman: “Not to worry son, he will make the trade.”
McDavid: “I have never heard of these players, sir.”
Neeson’s smirk returns: “That is because they don’t exist. But it matters not. He will hear the words highly skilled offensive forward three times along with the names Glenn, Marc and Wayne. In his current state, such words will overpower him and he will sign the deal.”
McDavid: “If I may speak plainly, he is that stupid?”
Bettman and Neeson together: “Yes.”
McDavid: “And what happens when he sobers up and learns these are not real players?”
Bettman: “He will be told Glenn Anderchuck has been accused of beating up his wife and has been infinitely suspended by the NHL as a result, Marc Massacre has been similarly suspended due to his arrest for cocaine and ecstasy possession in a Las Vegas Hotel public pool and Wayne Gretzhower has suffered too many concussions and is now a shadow of his former self.”
McDavid: “And that is believable?”
Bettman: “More than you know, young man. More than you know…”
Neeson: “SO! Tell us Connor, for what team would you like to play?”
Bettman: “Yes, do tell. Surely it is the Penguins with Sidney Crosby? The Rangers with Rick Nash? Or perhaps a storied Canadian franchise like Montreal?”
McDavid: “Actually sir, it is none of those.”
Neeson: “Oh?”
Bettman: “Then who is it?”
McDavid: “I would like to play for the Los Angeles Kings.”
Neeson sits back in his chair and scowls. Bettman leans forward.
Bettman: “Los Angeles? Why?”
McDavid: “Bobby Scribe, sir.”
Neeson and Bettman exchange puzzled looks.
Bettman: “Who?”
McDavid: “Bobby Scribe. He is an L.A. Kings blogger. Surly and Scribe, home to diehard L.A. Kings fans. I just…I just would like to read him write about me. He has a fucking way with words…”
Bettman sits back and places his clenched hands in front of him. There is an uncomfortable silence. McDavid reaches for the glass and takes another sip.
To be continued…
by Kaboomlandia » Thu Apr 23, 2015 7:41 pm
by United Kingdom of Poland » Thu Apr 23, 2015 8:41 pm
by Kaboomlandia » Fri Apr 24, 2015 4:16 pm
by United Kingdom of Poland » Fri Apr 24, 2015 7:15 pm
by Ontorisa » Fri Apr 24, 2015 7:40 pm
by Kaboomlandia » Sat Apr 25, 2015 10:36 am
by Camicon » Sat Apr 25, 2015 8:50 pm
Country of glowing hearts, and patrons of the artsThe Trews, Under The Sun
Help me out
Star spangled madness, united sadness
Count me out
by Esparmuran » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:01 pm
Camicon wrote:SUCK IT VANCOUVER! FLAMES FOR THE CUP!
by Ontorisa » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:02 pm
by Esparmuran » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:17 pm
by Camicon » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:17 pm
Country of glowing hearts, and patrons of the artsThe Trews, Under The Sun
Help me out
Star spangled madness, united sadness
Count me out
by Ontorisa » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:20 pm
Can't stop a beach ball. I probably just jinxed my team though, so yeah.by Camicon » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:41 pm
Country of glowing hearts, and patrons of the artsThe Trews, Under The Sun
Help me out
Star spangled madness, united sadness
Count me out
by Ontorisa » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:43 pm
by Camicon » Sat Apr 25, 2015 9:44 pm
Ontorisa wrote:Camicon wrote:I don't think Price has let in any soft goals so far in the series.
He's let in goals that he would be able to stop normally.
Plus CBC is always praising Montreal, so it would be a hilarious change of events if Montreal lost, got reverse swept and left the CBC commentators flabbergasted.
Country of glowing hearts, and patrons of the artsThe Trews, Under The Sun
Help me out
Star spangled madness, united sadness
Count me out
by Kaboomlandia » Sun Apr 26, 2015 7:43 am
by Kaboomlandia » Sun Apr 26, 2015 7:45 am
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