Bruins swept Philly, and we’re still pumped about moving on to the Conference Finals. Life is good.
There are a lot of story lines that go into a playoff series, whether it’s Thomas dying for our sins of Looch getting his groove back. But there are a lot that go unnoticed, which is a shame since they can be just as important to an hockey team’s sucess.
Or at least just as awesome.
We recently got a letter sent to us, there was no return address, but the story it tells is the things legends are made of…one legend to be more specific. After looking at the seal on the envelope, it’s wasn’t hard to guess who it was.
After the jump, we open up the letter and take a look.
Call me Rancourt…
What drives men to hunt? Some hunt for sport, others for food, but me, I hunt to bring peace. There is a beast among us, a beast that many thought have died a long time ago. But it didn’t, the people who worship it won’t let it. I armed myself to the teeth and left for the cursed city where it’s thought to dwell…Philadelphia.
It didn’t take long for me to realize I was in the right place, the whole city reeked of Crisco and fried Twinkies. I had been told that the best time for a sighting was at the at the water around feeding time, which was fortunately every 10 minutes, so I headed to the nearest beach.
I began to lose hope after hours of searching every vending machine and snack joint in the area. I sat down on a small cliff over looking the ocean. Just as I was getting ready to head back I heard a scream. From my seat I yelled to everyone still in the water, but they couldn’t hear me.
I ran to the water’s edge in time to see a fat boy in an inner tube disappear beneath the water’s surface. I pulled out my gun and fired off a few quick shots, but it was no use. The boy was gone, another soul lost.
It was no wonder that I couldn’t find her, she was living where all whales live. With no time to lose I rented a boat and headed into the water.
I approached the area where I saw the boy get eaten, the water was red with blood….or ketchup, and there was a greasy trail all around me. Suddenly, there was a splash! And my target had leapt out of the water. It was bigger than I imagined!!
It was the White Whale!! Kate Smith!!
Never before had I witnessed anything so massive, so hideous, no wonder Philly was obsessed with this woman. My harpoon struck only what I can imagine is her dorsal fin, but I failed to predict what would happen next. Ever see a fat kid do a cannonball into a pool? Well multiply that by about a million.
Somehow I survived, I was floating on the wreckage of what was left of my boat. Thinking I was successful, I started the long swim back to shore. Suddenly there was a noise behind me, it sounded like an oncoming train. I turned hoping to see some kind of rescue boat, but there was Smith, swimming full speed towards me.
“Ye damned whale!!!” I screamed, picking up my rifle. I had only one shot, I knew if I missed, I was doomed, condemned to a slow, painful death by digestion. I held my breath and fired.
The demon had disappeared beneath the ocean, I had no idea if I had hit it or if it was simply hiding. I waited for what seemed like hours and soon the water beneath me began to rise. Unable to fight anymore I closed my eyes and waited. Once Smith had reached the surface, she was belly up, eyes black, and dead.
The rest is predictable. I headed back to shore, using her as a raft and and broken paddle. When I returned, I was met with applause. Finally, the beast could rest…but for how long? How long until Philly beats this dead horse back to life once more? I don’t know, but for now, I plan to enjoy my victory.
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