Oilers GM Ken Holland strode into the team boardroom, packed with the executives and other personnel preparing for the 2021 draft. The NHL draft was streaming on a big screen on one wall, sound turned off. The room went quiet as Holland's lackey put his binder, assortment of pens, and his mug of "coffee" at his place at the head of the table.
"This season was FILLED with promise. BUT IT WENT TO [BLEEP] IN A [BLEEP]ING HANDBASKET!!!!" he yelled, pounding the table. Some of the coffee spilled and immediately removed the enamel from the table.
"WE. WILL. NOT. HAVE. ANOTHER. 2021! And that begins now. And the entire hockey world knows it because of the skill of this franchise. Show them, Peebles."
The lackey pushed a button on the remote and the monitor at the far end of the room turned on, revealing:
"Anal eye tics. We are one of only two franchises who built their WHOLE ROSTER with anal eye tics. Top to bottom with our ..."
"Excuse me, sir?"
"WHAT???"
"The word is pronounced 'anal-it-ics'."
"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S PRONOUNCED [BLEEP]IN' [BLEEP] IN A TROUGH OF [BLEEP]!!!!! WE DO IT AND WE ARE THE BEST! WHERE'S MY ANALLY-TUCKS GUYS?"
" You fired them, sir."
"What? When?"
"When you demanded a second entrance into your wine cellar last October. Right through their offices."
"Well [BLEEP] I did. [BLEEP]. But we have their notes, right?"
"You, uhhh, burned everything in the department in front of them, sir. You wanted to show that they did, and I quote, '[BLEEP] meaningless [BLEEP]-bucket finger-counting' and you refused to give them any severance."
"Hmm, I do remember something like that [chuckle]. Okay, well, listen up, compu-geeks. My instructions are very simple. FIND ME ANOTHER MC-[BLEEP]IN-DAVID!!"
"But, sir, Connor is a generational talent and we had the first overall ..."
"DID I ASK FOR EXCUSES? DO I PAY YOU $2 OVER MINIMUM WAGE TO MAKE EASY DECISIONS?!? WE NEED A STAR."
Nobody moved or even dared look around.
"WELL, who do we have?????"
One young intern was pushed out of his chair, grabbed the table to not tumble to the ground, and meekly stood up.
"Given the ... picks made by the ... ohh, my stomach ... to date, sir, we are reasonably expectant about ..."
"YOUR JOB IS NOT 'REASONABLY EXPECTANT', DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I want you to be [BLEEP]sure. Are you [BLEEP]sure about your pick, junior?"
"Well, umm, I ..." the young intern said, his eyes darting around the room. "The numbers are ..."
"ARE YOU [BLEEP]SURE? TELL ME YOU ARE [BLEEP]SURE OR WALK OUT OF THAT DOOR AND KEEP WALKING!"
"I ... uhh, we ... are [BLEEP]s-s-sure that you should pick this player, sir." The intern handed Holland a piece of paper and promptly passed out.
"We are up next, sir," a voice said, pointing all to the live feed.
Holland stood at the podium, as lackeys adjusted the camera and microphone.
"You're live ... now, sir," one of them whispered.
"Thank you, GARRR-RY. The Edmonton Oilers are proud to grace yet another NHL draft with our presence, despite your non-response to my numerous demands over the past season. Let's make this short and sweet: the Oilers have used their world-renowned annual-attics to select, from the Winnipeg Ice of the WHL, defenseman
Carson Lambos.
"Okay that's done," Holland growled, raising his middle finger toward the screen. "Send the spoiled brat his jersey, do the usual blood tests, and get me more 'coffee'." He then turned and stomped out of the room.
"Sir, the feed is still live."
"I know."
@Haanz, you are up.
The Winnipeg Jets are proud to select Logan Stankoven.
/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/66615382/1187412764.jpg.0.jpg)
