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Bendak

Jedi Use Hacks
Apr 5, 2013
1,529
2,723
St. Louis
Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous
 

TruBlu

Registered User
Feb 7, 2016
6,784
2,923
Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous
This gave me goose bumps as I read it. Good damn job!!
 
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Bdon88

Registered User
Oct 4, 2018
19
32
The greatest story of all time


Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous
 

Chief Steele

Registered User
Jun 26, 2018
260
108
Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous

AMAZING
 
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WeWentBlues

Registered User
May 3, 2017
2,061
1,798
Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous
I anoint thee Tenacious B. This is just a tribute.
 

Stealth JD

Don't condescend me, man.
Sponsor
Jan 16, 2006
16,678
7,944
Bonita Springs, FL
The Canes have given the Blues fits for years...while they've been bad. Now that they're very good (aside from special teams) this game could be ugly.

Fun quote from Dom Luszczyszyn at the Athletic:
I was lower on the Blues than most, hesitantly so, but even I didn’t expect this early train-wreck. It’s not just Jake Allen either, the whole team has been a hot mess. With all the offseason hype surrounding the team, they’re quickly looking like this season’s version of the 2017-18 Oilers.
 
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Stupendous Yappi

Any famous last words? Not yet!
Sponsor
Aug 23, 2018
8,548
13,327
Erwin, TN
I just want to say, if Yeo is going to be fired tomorrow, the result of tonight's game won't matter. No GM is going to hinge a decision like that on a single game's outcome. Its either already been decided, and the details are being worked out (mainly for the replacement) or not. And we should maybe take some confidence if it is not announced yet that maybe Armstrong is taking the opportunity to negotiate with Quenneville. There may simply not have been enough time yet.
 

thedustman

Registered User
Jun 19, 2013
4,198
1,246
Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous
hahaha damn, nice.

cursed be his name hahahaha
 
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The Electrician

Registered User
Sponsor
Oct 24, 2014
233
215
Missouri
Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous

Legit LOL. It's like reading the Silmarillion.
 
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Spektre

Registered User
Apr 10, 2010
8,749
6,433
Krynn
If the Canes go up 3 or 4-1 how ugly will the crowd get? It would be brutal if there's a chant "We want Q"
 
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WeWantTacos

they said aw-reety an' they was aw-righty
Apr 6, 2012
2,118
1,679
Brett Hallway
I'm looking for at least 2 own goals. The players have checked out on yeo and with q being available they better not screw this up and win or something.
 
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Blanick

Winter is coming
Sep 20, 2011
15,845
10,780
St. Louis
Nice I just got a free ticket to tonight's game. I'll keep a look out for Coach Q walking around the concourse.
 
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wannabebluesplayer

Registered User
Apr 16, 2012
1,359
466
I'm looking for at least 2 own goals. The players have checked out on yeo and with q being available they better not screw this up and win or something.

Winning tonight wouldn't change anything if Armstrong's mind is made up. If Yeo is still the coach, win or lose, after tonight, I'm close to done watching this team this year. It's probably past the time they needed to replace Yeo to truly rebound. However, after today's revelation that Bouw has been playing while still trying to recover from hip surgery has me done with Yeo. Dunn struggled but didn't deserve to sit over an apparently ailing Bouw. Schmaltz has played well every time he's been in, and again, probably wouldn't have been nearly as bad as Bouw. Yeo's handling of Bouw has me to the point where I want Yeo gone regardless of who the next coach is.
 
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Lord Helix

Registered User
Nov 12, 2010
14,418
2,777
Excerpt from “History of the Holy Note”
-2084, in the year of Quenneville

*The historian who meticulously recorded the events remains anonymous to this day


By the beard of St. O’Reilly

By the wrister of St. Tarasenko

And in the name of the Divine Quenneville

Do I hereby transcribe the accounts faithfully for the sake of the followers of the Holy Note

Amen

November 6, 2018
The day seemed an ordinary one, but it would prove to be a date which would live in the hearts and souls of Blues fans for all time.

The home crowd that night was sparse and despondent. They had heard tales since the early morning that day of Coach Quenneville's firing by the Chicago Blackhawks, their bitter rivals. All day they combed the various media outlets searching, hoping, and praying for good tidings from Armstrong's office.

Would their long lost hockey coach return?

Would the four-eyed bald mother f*****'s reign of terror finally be at an end?!

Would their valiant boys in blue finally live up to the preseason hype?

Yet for all their hopes and prayers, no news came that day.

Disgruntled and seemingly resigned to their fates of being the Central Division's cellar dweller for eternity, the fans sullenly took to their seats after the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner"*, as was tradition at the time. Armstrong had played it safe again, they assumed. He was going to ride the bald tyrant all the way to hockey purgatory and take the franchise with him.

*It is important for the reader to note that after the unfortunate passing of Charles Glenn in 2073, the Blues organization switched to an instrumental recording of the anthem instead, stating: "Any other singer would just be a poor imitation of Chocolate Jesus ". Pilgrims to the Holy City of St. Louis still pay homage at his grave, where he is enshrined next to The Golden Brett in the Halls of the Fallen overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. His world famous epitaph simply states "Meet me at 14th and Clark" [See Appendix B for locations of all sacred sites in the Holy City]

The events occurring after the conclusion of the National Anthem have been debated ad nauseum since they transpired that evening. The reader already knows that the various myths and legends of that night are too numerous and vast to include in this singular tome. Your humble historian has therefore decided to only include the facts that can be irrefutably corroborated, for a clear and precise historical analysis to separate truth from myth as much as can be humanly possible.

THE RETURN OF THE Q
Suddenly , a wave of enthusiasm and electricity filled the arena before the puck could be dropped at center ice. The crowd audibly gasped as their attention shifted from the ice to the giant jumbo-tron that loomed over the spectators.

They were transfixed by the sight of an enraged Joel Quenneville, armed with a steel chair, charging down the player's tunnel towards the ice. Yet "Joel's Charge", as it would henceforth be referred as, was not a solitary one.

A towering warrior of immense size and strength, fully armored and ready for battle, followed closely behind. He was willing to risk life and limb for the man he knew would lead the Blues and the faithful to eternal glory!

That warrior was Ville Husso

Mike Yeo (cursed be his name) recoiled in horror at the realization his demise was imminent. Desperately, he leapt over the boards and scrambled onto the ice seeking a champion to come to his aid. The heroic Q was hot on his heels from behind.

Yeo’s gaze transfixed upon his apprentice, Jay Daniel Bouwmeester (cursed be his name) would surely save him!

“Jay come to my aid!” the four-eyed weasel cried “And I shall give unto thee all the ice time thou shalt require. Ye shall even quarterback my power play!!!”

The soulless librarian smirked at the villain’s pleasing offer and strode forth towards the righteous avenger. With an effeminate yell he shrieked and gleefully aimed his weapon towards Quenneville’s neck, seeking to decapitate the hero with a single stroke!

To the surprise of none the blow went wide

The mighty Joel, with a roar that could be heard throughout the arena, countered the soft spoken henchman’s stick with a blow from his weapon. With a thundering crack, the blow struck true and the librarian crumpled to the ice in a bloody heap, to the joyous cries of all in attendance.

A wave of terror and realization struck the villainous Yeo as he saw his apprentice slain before him. With a wretched and doomed gaze upon his countenance, his eyes shifted towards the end of the ice. There was now only one last card to play. One last stratagem to save his unholy reign of terror.

He would need Jake Allen to make a save

Jake “The Snake” Allen (cursed be his name), seeing his master facing certain doom furiously skated towards him. For he knew that the wise Q would never allow his unworthy skates to touch the ice wearing the Holy Blue and Gold.

Twas then that Husso valiantly strode forth

The Snake stopped in his tracks and stared at his would be challenger. An eerie silence swept over player and spectator alike, as the armored warriors squared off against each other at the blue line.

The Snake hissed, “Begone from mine sight and make haste to thy frozen homeland wretch! For I am the chosen champion of these peasants“ he mockingly gestured with his stick towards the crowd. “Have I not usurped Hutton, Elliott, and Halak to undeservedly attain my position of prominence? What hope doth a Finn such as you have? Get thee to a sauna where thou belongs dog!!!”

In silent defiance Husso threw off his helmet to the amazement of all. His only reply the steely gaze of his ferocious people of the frozen northlands. He raised his weapon with grim determination and thus did the duel begin.

The warriors circled each other slowly vying for an advantageous opening to strike the mortal blow. Husso “The UnBlinking” patiently waited for the moment he was waiting for. With a unsettling smile his moment had finally come. The snake was laughingly predictable to read, and Yeo sunk to his knees and wept as he saw the inevitable transpire.

For the final time, Jake Allen was once again out of position

Husso seized his moment and struck with such force the Snake lost his footing. In familiar territory, the snake did writhe and flounder on the ice to the embarrassment of all in attendance. The Ferocious Finn loomed over the panic stricken fool, for the fate of the Snake was soon to be mercifully ended. With a Ranksukian laugh, the feral Finn raised his instrument of vengeance and snarled:

“Never could stop anything short side huh?”

The full might of the warrior came crashing down upon him, and the Snake was thus vanquished.

At center ice, all of the Blues now encircled the pitiful and weeping tyrant. Coach Q nodded towards his men, and each took part in putting the villain out of his misery. An unceremonious end, poetically fitting for such a vile tyrant.

The rest as they say is history.

The Blues reign of dominance has continued even unto the present day, the curse of Scotty Bowman having finally been exorcised once and for all with the return of Quenneville.

But that is another story to tell

-Anonymous

giphy.gif
 
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