A little bit of pump up music for ya donkeys from the best trilogy evah*
As the only team in Canafornia to make the playoffs, I have to continue writing while Jean and Floob get to suck back some molsons and eat timbits with visions of playoff hockey dancing in their heads. The San Jose Sharks are playing short-term champions, long-term assholes, the Los Angeles Kings in the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The Los Angeles Kings, for many years, have been comparable to McDonalds. As a child, I enjoyed McDonalds because it was the only thing that I knew and that was around; McDonalds was a big deal for me and my peers in the late 80′s, early 90′s. Once better fast food started becoming available to me, I instantly forgot about McDonalds. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed McDonalds every once and a while, but mostly for its shitty toys and disease infested ball pit. Now that I’m an adult, I do crave McDonalds every so often, but now when I do, it’s nothing but regret, stomach pains, and horrible diarrhea. McDonalds used to be fun, but now it’s just unbearable, and won’t fucking go away. If I had the choice between McDonalds and Wienerschnitzel, I would pick McDonalds, because Wienerschnitzel is fucking disgusting and made of pig scraps and rat feces (obviously Wienerschnitzel is the Anaheim Ducks of fast food but we’ll talk about that another day).
Now there’s been a lot of beef between Kings fans and Sharks fans this season, and the story has been beaten to death by fans, the media and the internet, so allow me to beat it to death one more time. The story is that a typical, low IQ, fuckass tried to run down a teenaged hero with his car whilst driving through the town square. The hero was injured and the authorities said that it was inconclusive because of how the jerk ran into this sweet teenaged prince, even though this prick had a car and this teenaged sweetheart was on a goddamn skateboard.
Now this psychotic jackass has no qualms about hurting others to fulfill his kneeds. In the year 2044, he stole a sports magazine that taught him how to pretend to be good at hockey for a couple months, and in order to utilize this magazine, he stole a time travelling zamboni. He took the time travelling zamboni back to when he was repeating eighth grade for the third time and gave himself the magazine. Obviously he didn’t know how to read so he had to have someone read it to him, but once that happened, he was unstoppable. He fooled the unsuspecting Hill Valley NHL team into drafting him and his manipulative ways got him the captaincy.
Now the shift that he caused in the space-time continuum was so severe that it caused the Northridge Earthquake, the LA riots, OJ was found innocent, the Anaheim Ducks hockey club, and Tupac may or may not have died because of him. The reality that we have known and lived through has been an alternate reality. In alternate 2012, probably his most manipulative year of hockey ever, this evil villian actually looked like he could play the sport. He helped his Hill Valley team achieve a Stanley Cup Championship and he was instantly signed to some ridiculous contract. He sure fooled those fuckers.
Now that he is making the big bucks and is locked up long-term, this jackass contributes nothing to his coworkers. Instead of exercising, he sits in a jacuzzi watching Clint Eastwood movies while smoking cigars. He always breaks out his hockey magazine around trade deadline day and it seems to keep him from getting moved to Buffalo.
But he will be stopped. He will be put in his place by the very man who he loathes and who will uncover his ploy. This young man is loved by many, detested by those involved with the jerk I have so described in this tale, and also detested by those who don’t realize they are in an alternate reality (the fans). Our hero will stop this asshole and Southern California can be restored back to its original homeostasis (no more Anaheim Ducks).
Martyl will save the day.
Sharks in 7.
*Star Wars is technically a saga, and yes I know episodes I-III are horseshit