Halloween Beer Run or Horror, CONCLUSION

Part one

Part two

(MEANWHILE at PHANEUF's place, KABERLE is having a very rocking party featuring many of the other Leafs and members of the Marlies.)

LUKE SCHENN: (dressed as Garth Brooks) Gee, Jonas, your costume's really cool looking, but I don't quite get it.

JONAS GUSTAVSSON: (dressed as a set of wind chimes.) Thank you. I got idea after Giguere saw pictures of my girlfriend. He said something like, “You two are so skinny, when you get it on, it must look like a set of wind chimes.”

SCHENN: Kabbie, where did you get all of this beer and other stuff? This is fantastic!

KABERLE: I know! I just found it under that cabinet over there. It looks like someone went to Costco a few days ago. Which is weird, because Phaneuf and some of the other guys went on a beer run.

(PHANEUF, CUTHBERT, KESSEL, and BOZAK enter)

PHANEUF: Kabbie, whats going on?

CUTHBERT: Where did all of the guys come from?

KABERLE: They just showed up! And oh, it turns out, you had enough beer all along. You must have forgotten.

KESSEL: Really? That's awesome!

UNSEEN LEAF: FLIP CUP, MOTHER FUCKERS!

BOZAK: YEAH! (leaves to join flip cup game)

CUTHBERT: That's right, honey. We did that Costco trip a few days ago.

KESSEL: Costco makes beer now?

BOZAK: I AM THE FLIP CUP MASTER BITCHES!

KESSEL: WHOO BOY! FLIP CUP (Leaves to join game of flip cup)

PHANEUF: Huh...so I guess it all worked out in the end.

(Suddenly, SEAN AVERY, dressed as Lady Gaga, enters the room. The great times and loud music suddenly stop as an uneasy silence blankets the room)

SEAN AVERY: 'Sup sluts?

PHANEUF: Avery, what the hell are you doing here?

AVERY:It's off-ice time, muffhump. I'm looking for some sweet relaxation. And by “sweet relaxation”, I really mean stealing your ladies and grinding every piece of pussy until my dick falls off.”

PHANEUF: Hey, that's my line! I am the one dressed as the My New Haircut guy!

CUTHBERT: Sean, I think it's better if you leave right now.

AVERY: Nah, it's cool. Where's that Mike Cumsock or Jizzrag or whatever the fuck dumbass Polack name he has? I wanted to tell him how much that dumb, ugly twatwaffle can't fight or skate worth a shit.

CUTHBERT: Sean, listen to me. You really need to cut this shit out. I know you like the attention, but that's because you're a whore for it. And you're not even a good whore. In terms of whoredom, you're like the whore who gives out handjobs for fifty cents in back of a Denny's. That's why I left your ass in the first place. Maybe you need help from an actual professional. But all I know is I'm not the kind of professional you need. Neither is the NHL disciplinary board.

AVERY: Hush girl, you know you still want this.

CUTHBERT: Ew, no. I just got that cleared up.

PHANEUF: I'm gonna, I will smash your face into a jelly!

AVERY: (sarcastically) Oooh! I'm , like, totally scared of the Maple Leafs! What are you gonna do, dry up and blow away?

(PHANEUF walks to AVERY and punches AVERY repeatedly in the face. AVERY is knocked unconscious.)

PHANEUF: Well, now that Cunty McHookerface is out cold, what do you say we break out the sharpies and saran wrap him to the balcony? It's what you do to the first person out, right?

KABERLE: But Brett Lebda has been passed out on the couch for 20 minutes.

PHANEUF: Pfft. Lebda don't count for shit.

Halloween Beer Run of Horror, part 1

(SCENE: At DION PHANUEF’s place decorated for a Halloween party. PHANUEF is dressed as the “My New Haircut” guy, while ELISHA CUTHBERT is dressed as a sexy nurse. )


ELISHA CUTHBERT: Are you sure we have everything we need for the party?
DION PHANEUF: Of course we do. Being prepared is one of the reasons they made me captain.
CUTHBERT: It’s just we haven’t done a big party like this at the place before. I’m a bit nervous about having all the guys here.
(PHIL KESSEL and TYLER BOZAK enter, dressed as Bill and Ted, respectively)
PHIL KESSEL: Dion!
TYLER BOZAK: Hey, are we early?
PHANEUF: A little bit, but it’s ok.
KESSEL: Dude, you told us to be here at 8, so we’re here.
CUTHBERT: It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Here, maybe you guys can help me hang these lights. I’m not quite tall enough to do it.
BOZAK: Dion’s taller than both of us….
PHANEUF: Elisha, I told you earlier, the guys aren’t really gonna care about the lights. We’ll be too busy drinking beer and giving each other shit about our costumes.
KESSEL: I really like your costume, Elisha. It’s really nice. It really shows off your, uh…niceness. (PHANEUF glares)
BOZAK: What? It’s a really great boobs—I mean, costume.
PHANEUF: You’re on thin freakin’ ice. Even if your costumes rock.
KESSEL: I know, right? It’s all Bozie’s idea. He said I could be Bill because he’s the smart one.
BOZAK: Nah, I said Bill was the cool one. Ted is clearly the smart one. (TOMAS KABERLE enters, dressed as Andrew W.K.)
BOZAK: Hey Kabs! Cool costume!
PHANEUF: Wow, Kabbie, I didn’t know you liked Andrew W.K.
TOMAS KABERLE: I am glad you like it.
KESSEL: How’d you get such great looking fake blood?
KABERLE: It’s not fake blood. I hit myself in the face with a brick so I would feel pain again.
CUTHBERT: That’s, uh, cool...I guess.
PHANEUF: ELISHA! DAMMIT!
CUTHBERT: What wrong, babe?
PHANEUF: I just realized we forgot to get beers for the party!
CUTHBERT: How the hell did we forget that?!
KESSEL: So is it beer run time?
PHANEUF: It looks it.
BOZAK: Phil and I can come with you! We can help carry stuff!
KABERLE: I will stay here and make sure that people will stay if they come.
PHANEUF: That sounds like a good idea.

Stay tuned for part 2!

Jeff Finger's Off Ice Adventures!

(SCENE: JEFF FINGER is at TOMAS KERBLE’S house standing on the front lawn.)
FINGER: Welcome to Jeff Finger’s Off-Ice Adventures! I’m Jeff Finger here to show you what real NHL players do in their spare time! My guest today is Maple Leafs defenseman Tomas Kaberle. Tomas, how’s it going?
KABERLE: Is not too bad.
FINGER: So, what’s the plan today?
KABERLE: Today, I am doing some reading, some grilling, and avoiding the MLHS forums like the plague.
FINGER: Cool! What’s on the grill? It smells delicious.
KABERLE: It is recipe I call “Butter steak”. I cook steak, and then I put butter on it.
FINGER: Who the hell puts butter on steak? That sounds really weird but delicious at the same time.
KABERLE: …I just explained butter steak to you. Maybe it is Czech thing, since butter is one of our most important spices, after salt and bacon grease.
FINGER:Man, you Czechs are crazy. Do you know what else is crazy? The huge-ass containers at Costco.
KABERLE: Uhhh…
FINGER: I can seriously get a bottle of Robitussin that’s like five galloons’ worth.
KABERLE: Who needs that much cough syrup?
FINGER: I drank it all on the way here.
KABERLE: Holy shit, Finger! That’s really not good for you!
FINGER: Sometimes I put in Jolly Ranchers and call it “Rainbow Stew”, but it’s not like any rainbow stew Merle Haggard’s ever heard of!
KABERLE: Maybe you should see a doctor, Jeff. That much cough syrup cannot be good for your health. It is very concerning—
FINGER: Nothing to be concerned about here. My contract means I can buy a metric buttload of Robitussin and Jolly Ranchers.
ANGRY MAN IN STREET: HEY KABERLE YOU—(KABERLE throws rocks at ANGRY MAN ad hits him in the face)
KABERLE: HA! Got ‘im!
FINGER: What the hell just happened?
KABERLE: It is some random guy who keeps insulting me. I have been trying to chase him away with limited success.
ANGRY MAN: (garbled mess)
FINGER: Oh, man, he’s not dead! He’s angry!
KABERLE: Well, he is leaving now, I am ok with that.
FINGER: (awkward pause) So….What do you see for the future of the Maple Leafs?
KABERLE: I told you, I am avoiding forums. They want to trade me for Bobby Ryan and Jeff Freakin’ Carter. But I am not worried.
FINGER: Yeah, I noticed you’re pretty Zen about this whole thing. How can you do that?
KABERLE: In Czech republic, we have saying: “Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.”
FINGER: Dude, if you start singing, I will punch you in the throat.
KABERLE: No worries, for I do not know the rest of the song.
FINGER: Uh, ok. That's all I have for this episode of Jeff Finger's off ice adventures.  Join me next time when I meet up with Dion Phaneuf when he attempts to set a world record in baby eating.

LOLeafs: KesseLOL

It's hard for me to do some LOLeafs, what with the season over. But, thanks to google images, it works again! In celebration, here's a massive photospam of Phil Kessel being...Phil Kessel. 

Source is here



source: here


source

source

Phil with Monkia is a pair of screen grabs from this video

photo source: right here

Tomas Kaberle in: The Metamorphosis, part 2

Part one is here

Tomas Kaberle Photo source   Franz Kafka Photo source

As Tomas was contemplating all of this, his cell phone rang. It was Francois Beauchemin, who was also meeting with Coach Ron Wilson later that same day. “Tomas, Tomas…” he asked, “ Is everything ok? It is now noon. Do you need any help to be on your way?” At that moment, Tomas wanted nothing more than to tell him every detail, but he confined himself to not do so. Tomas was started at the sound of his own voice, which was tinnier and squeakier than normal, but still his own. “I am fine, Francois. I just had a little trouble with my alarm clock plus a bit of a late night last night. I am fine.” Tomas hung up the phone and his quiet was interrupted again, this time by an unexpected visit from Mike Van Ryn. Mike knocked on the door, weakly, but with his bandaged wrist. “Tomas, Tomas” he called out, “What’s going on?” After a short while, he urged in a deeper voice, “Tomas. Tomas. Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Tomas directed Mike away with “I’ll be ready right away.” Mike whispered “Tomas, I beg you—ah, crap, there goes my wrist again. I think I broke it clean off this time.I have to go get some Tylenol, and maybe a doctor.” Tomas ignored Mike’s cries and was glad that he had locked the door so tightly.

First, Tomas wanted to get up, get dressed and get breakfast, since he had reached the conclusion that lying in bed was not going to solve any problems. It was easy to throw off the covers, however, standing on the floor proved a challenge. He knees felt weak and he felt as though his whole body was spinning, starting with his head and moving all the way down to his feet. It was a truly odd sensation, since Tomas was not a man who was not easily injured or afflicted with illness. He felt as though every step was tentative, as though he wasn’t sure if he could even walk anymore, let alone be an elite defenseman. No matter how he felt, Tomas told himself, “I must not stay in bed uselessly.” However, his lack of equilibrium took a hold of the Czech, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed. He thought about how much easier it would be if he had someone to help him out—maybe John Mitchell or Jeff finger, since they were not usually so occupied—surely people as study as they were would be able to help Tomas get around. Alas, he was home by himself, so no help could be found.

There was another ring at the door. Tomas recognized the study step and the firm greeting of Ron Wilson. Why was Tomas the only one condemned to a team where the slightest lapse commanded attention? Did this mean that every member of this team was a scoundrel and a slacker? Among them was there then no truly devoted person who, if he failed to use just a couple of hours in the morning for defensive planning would become abnormal from pangs of conscience and really be in no state to get out of bed? Must Ron Wilson himself come, and in the process must it be demonstrated to the entire innocent Leaf Nation that the investigation of this suspicious circumstance could be entrusted only to the intelligence of the coach? With his head spinning with questions, Tomas fell onto the floor with a loud crash.

“Something has fallen in here”, said Ron Wilson with his usual gruffness. Tomas tried to think of any situation he had been in that was at all similar to this, and he could find none. He could find no possible way to justify his current state. Tomas heard the creak of Ron’s shoes on his floor as the coach stated “Tomas, it’s me, Coach Wilson. I’m here for you.” “I know”, said Tomas, but not loud enough for anyone but him to hear it.

Tomas Kaberle In: The Metamorphosis.

(Tomas mugshot from NHL.com, Kafka from here.  )

One morning, as Tomas Kaberle awoke from anxious dreams, he discovered that in his bed he had been changed into monstrous trade bait.  He lay on his tightened back and saw, as he lifted his rosy-cheeked face, that the fans who had once supported him had now turned on him.

“What’s happened to me?” he thought. It was no bad dream. His small room hung between the four walls. Above a table was a picture cut out of a magazine set into a nice, gilt frame. It was a picture of a tall, bald, Swedish man who was really good at poker.

Tomas turned his head and looked out of his window. The humid weather, with piercing sunrays, had made him quite melancholy. “Why don’t I keep sleeping for a little while longer and forget all this foolishness,” he thought. But this was entirely impractical, for his right side had never been right since getting hit by Cam Janssen.  No matter how hard he threw himself onto his right side, he always got dizzy and scared, causing him to roll onto his back.

“O God” he thought, “What a demanding job it is to be a player of the Toronto Maple Leafs!  Day in and day out, on the ice, on the road! The stresses of critics are so much more than what’s happening on the ice, and, in addition to that, I still have to cope with the problems of travelling, the worries about jet lag, bad food, Colton Orr snoring. To hell with it all!” He felt a slight itching in the middle of his eyebrow.

He slid back into his earlier position. “This getting up early in the off-season", he thought, “is real stupid. A man needs his rest after playing all of those games. Other hockey players live like bloggers in their mom’s basements. I remember I would leave the ice after a morning skate, only to find that Vesa Toskala was just finishing his breakfast. If I did that, I’d be traded to Columbus right on the spot! But that’s ok, for I am an elite, puck-moving defenseman, whereas Vesa Toskala is a piece of shit. Still, maybe a change of scenery would be a good thing for me. Sure, playing one’s whole career for the team that drafted him would be nice, but if it wasn’t for Tim Horton’s, I would have demanded a trade years ago. In any case, I have to get up. I have a meeting with Ron Wilson about the team’s defensive core at nine.”

He looked over at the alarm on the nightstand next to him. Good God, it was almost noon! Had he slept through the alarm? It could not be possible, since at the moment the alarm was sounding loud enough to vibrate his ears. Tomas thought about how he could explain his lateness to Ron Wilson, since Coach Wilson was not one to screw around when it came to meeting times. Perhaps Tomas could say that he was feeling ill that morning. No, that would not do, since in his eleven years as a hockey player with the Leafs, he had only missed eighty-two games. Coach Wilson would surely call him soft and sic Gary Roberts on him, which would not be wrong. Aside from a touch of drowsiness form oversleeping, Tomas felt fine.

Part 2 to come...

Fake Interviews with Real People: Tomas Kaberle Raps

I heard "Natalie Raps" and I was surprised at how well the lyrical genius applies to the Leafs resident gentle Czech.

Here's the original (language VERY NSFW, which also goes for the parody below it.)


LOSER DOMI: I’m here with Maple Leafs defenceman Tomas Kaberle. So Tomas, what’s a day in the life of Tomas Kaberle like?
TOMAS KABERLE: Do you really want to know?
LD: Please, tell us.
KABERLE:

I don’t sleep, motherfucker, Red Bull and bourbon

Doin’ one twenty gettin’ head when I’m swerving

Damn Kaberle, you’re a crazy Czech

Yo, shut the fuck up and suck my dick.

I duck shots, ain’t nobody duckin’ harder

Roll up on the Flyers smack the shit outta Jeff Carter.

FRANCOIS BEAUCHEMIN: What you want, Kaberle?

KABERLE: To drink and fight!

BEAUCHEMIN: What you need, Kaberle?

KABERLE: TO FUCK ALL NIGHT!

Don’t screw with me when I’m on scrapbooking glue

I’ll shove my foot in your throat till your shit’s on my shoe

Leave you screaming, pay for my dry cleaning

fuck your man It’s my name that he’s screamin’

LD: I’m sorry Kaberle, but are we to believe you condone driving while intoxicated?
KABERLE: I never said I was a role model.
LD: What about all the community service? And the kids that look up to you?

KABERLE: All the kids lookin’ up to me can suck my dick

It’s Kabbie mother fucker drink till I’m sick

Slit your throat and poor nitrous down the hole

Watch you laugh and cry while I laugh you die

And all the chicks you know I’m talkin to you

ICE GIRLS: We love you Kabbie!

KABERLE: I wanna fuck you too! K is for Kabbie K is for Kock. I’ll kill your fuckin dog for fun so don’t push me!

LD: Well, Tomas I’m surprised. All this from a Leaf with extensive charity work and someone so respected in his native Czech Republic.
KABERLE: Well there’s a lot you may not know about me.
LD: Really? Such as?

KABERLE: When I was in Czech Leagues, I smoked weed every day

I punched a lot of hookers and snorted all the yay

I gotta a def posse and you gotta buncha dudes

I sit down on your face and take a shit

BEAUCHEMIN: Kaberle you are a bad ass Czech (hell yeah!) and I always pay for your dry cleanin when my shit gets in your shoe. And as for the drug use, well I can vouch for that

my soul is scared of you, Kabs

LD: One last question…if you could have dinner with any famous hockey figure, who would it be? (KABERLE throws chair at LD)
Kaberle: No more questions What!

Leafs for Life: Kessel and Phaneuf Explain The Mysteries of the Universe.

(SCENE: DION PHANEUF, PHIL KESSEL and TOMAS KABERLE are all hanging out outside of KABERLE’s house)
PHIL KESSEL: Man, you guys every just, like, look at stars? It makes ya think, ‘cuz, like, the stars don’t give a shit if you score 30 goals or lay out some guy or whatever. They just keep spinning and going around and stuff.
TOMAS KABERLE: It really does make you wonder about stuff.
DION PHANEUF: Like fuckin’ magnets. How do they work?
KABERLE: And how Pluto may not be a planet anymore. Why is that?
KESSEL: Well, that one’s because Pluto may not be large enough, has an odd orbit, and is not the dominant object in its orbit to be considered a “true” planet,
PHANEUF: Man, that’s so wrong, you don’t even know.
KESSEL: Oh yeah, smart guy, why isn’t Pluto a planet, then?
PHANEUF: Pluto’s a dog, dumbass.
KABERLE: I never got that. How can Goofy AND Pluto both be dogs, and yet only one of them talks and wears pants?
PHANEUF: Maybe Pluto’s a dwarf dog, too.
KESSEL: I think they keep Goofy around so he can go to stores for everyone else. See, Mickey doesn’t wear shirts, so anywhere with a “no shirt, no shoes, no service” policy is out of the question. And Donald Duck doesn’t wear pants, so he’s not gonna be allowed anywhere. But Goofy has a shirt AND pants, so he can go anywhere.
KABERLE: What about Minnie Mouse and Daisy Duck?
PHANEUF: They have dresses, but so short they may as well just be wearing shirts.
KESSEL: Then again, how the heck does Mickey have a pet dog when he’s a mouse? Wouldn’t a dog eat or squash him?
PHANEUF: Yeah, that’s all kinds of screwy right there.
KABERLE: Agreed.
PHANEUF: Man, look at all those stars and planets.  Wonder how they got there and how they’re staying up there.
KESSEL: Space monkeys.
KABERLE: …what?
KESSEL: Yeah, space monkeys. They hold the planets in place and spin them around.
PHANEUF: If that’s so, then how come nobody’s seen any when they go up in, like, the Hubble telescope and stuff?
KESSEL: ‘Cuz—duh—space monkeys are invisible!
PHANEUF: Oh yeah. I guess I never thought of that. You learn something new every day, I guess.
KABERLE: Wow, just…are you guys seriously retarded? (ANGRY MAN IN STREET appears)
ANGRY MAN IN STREET:  HEY KABERLE! SHOULDA WAIVED YOUR NO-TRADE CLAUSE YOU SHITASS!
KABERLE: Hey jerk, I got something to “waive” for you. (KABERLE removes pants and shakes genitals at ANGRY MAN IN STREET)
PHANEUF: Who was that guy?
KABERLE: I don’t know. Some Harry Potter lookalike who yells at me. (awkward pause)
KESSEL: Man, there’s just miracles everywhere you look!
PHANEUF: Fuckin' rainbows after it rains, there's enough magic to blow your brains. 
KESSEL: And how people’s kids look just like them.
PHANEUF: 85,000 people in one room as equals
KESSEL: Magic everywhere in this bitch, it’s all around you and you don’t even know it.
KABERLE: Holy crap…uhhh..I’m going to need to drink more if I’m going to understand you guys without having a stupid-induced aneurysm.
KESSEL: But I haven’t had anything to drink yet.
PHANEUF: Yeah, this is just water.
KABERLE: Holy shit. 

The Birthday Party

If you just imagine that I regularly hang out with some of the Leafs and we’re drinking buddies, this all works. Trust me. 

(SCENE: TOMAS KABERLE, LUKE SCHENN, PHIL KESSEL and DION PHANEUF are waiting outside of a club for LOSER DOMI)
TOMAS KABERLE: I thought LD already had a birthday.
LUKE SCHENN: Nah, that was the blogthday. This is her actual birthday.
PHIL KESSEL: Guys, dontcha think it’s kinda weird that a buncha NHL guys like us would go out with a nobody fan like her?
SCHENN: Now that you mention it…it sounds like some crappy fanfic on the Internet.
DION PHANEUF: Yeah, you’d know all about bad fanfic on the Internet, wouldn’t you, Luke?
SCHENN: Go screw yourself, caveman. (LOSER DOMI arrives)
LOSER DOMI: Hey guys!
LEAFS: HI! Happy Birthday! (etc)
ANGRY MAN IN STREET: Hey Kaberle! WAIVE YOUR FUCKING CLAUSE YOU NO-GOOD SHIT-EATING PIG-FUCKER!
KABERLE: Who the hell was that?
SCHENN: I dunno, some angry Harry Potter look-a-like, I guess.
LD: Actually, that sounds like…nevermind.
KESSEL: Hey, you wanna see a Raptors game? Me and Dion went and we had a wicked good time.
PHANEUF: Yeah we did! Tunes were turned up, yo.
LD: Thanks, but…I’m not that big of a basketball fan.
KESSEL: That’s alright. Hackey’s the top game in this town.
SCHENN: Guys, why are we standing around outside? It’s cold and wet out here. 
PHANEUF: I got it. Stupid door, open! (punches door)
KESSEL: Dude…use doorknobs next time.  (The gang goes into the club and many drinks are had over a period of an hour or so)
KESSEL: (intensely to LD)…so then I run my hands down the shaft and maybe do a little more candy cane action on my stick there…
KABERLE: Phil, you’ve been talking about your stick for 20 minutes.
KESSEL: Quit making fun of my junk!
KABERLE: I wasn’t…you know what? Forget it, I’m getting out of here. It’s a bit too late for me.
ANGRY GUY FROM EARLIER: TALK ABOUT TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE YA WORTHLESS SACK OF SHIT!
SCHENN: Who is that guy?
PHANEUF: And why was he wearing blue pajama pants at 9:30 at night?
KESSEL: You’re turning in already, Kabs?
KABERLE: I’m just…tired all the time. It feels like I’m just going through the motions sometimes. Oh well. (KABERLE leaves)
LD: What’s wrong with him? Tomas always looks so sad and worn out.
PHANEUF: Who the hell knows what’s going on in his head?
WAITRESS: Hey guys, would you like some shots?
SCHENN: What kind of shots are they?
PHANEUF: OH BOY GUYS! Are these the ones with the butterscotch and the whipped cream? Those are AWESOME!
KESSEL: No real man should ever have a drink involving whipped cream.
SCHENN: I’m game to try it.
LD: Sure!
(all 4 have a shot)
KESSEL: Huh…that was pretty good! Are these what people mean when they order blowjobs?
PHANEUF: Hey waitress, more blowjobs!
WAITRESS: Uh…I gave you four buttery nipples.
LD: Whatever! Buttery nipples, blowjobs, buttery blowjobs, it’s all good here!
(several hours later,  PHANEUF, KESSEL, SCHENN, and LD have had many, many shots and it shows. )
KESSEL: WOWIE! Those things are pretty good!
SCHENN: I have four fingers. And this table won’t stop moving on me! Jerk!
PHANEUF: I told ya they were!
LD: Whoa, guys, that’s been an awful lot of buttery nipples. Are we gonna be ok to go home?
KESSEL: Yer always ok to go home with us, LD! (goes to put arm around LD, but slips and falls down.) Owie.
PHANEUF: I jus’ wanna say, I just wanna say…LD, it takes a lot, and I mean a LOT of guts to do what you do. I mean, making fun of huge NHL dudes who could totally snap your twiggy ass in two without breaking a sweat? You gotta have balls to do that….er, sorry, Phil.
KESSEL: Quit making fun of my junk!
SCHENN: Hey Phil, we literally drank you under the table! All literal-like! (laughs)
KESSEL: Shut up! I hate you guys.
PHANEUF: Hey waitress, can we get some more buttery nipples over here?
WAITRESS: I’m sorry…but you guys drank all of the schnapps we had. We can’t make anymore.
SCHENN: Ahhh…it’s ok.
WAITRESS: But, uh, are you guys all set for the night, then? Can we settle the tab?
KESSEL: DO you know who we are?
PHANEUF: We’re kind of a big deal!
WAITRESS: I know who she is, but I don’t know you three guys.
SCHENN: Wait, how do you be a waitress in Toronto and you know her but not 3 members of the Leafs?
LD: I’ll have you know that I am a minor Internet celebrity…actually, wait, I’m lame, never mind. Actually, you know, let's just forget it, pay up, and get out of here. (the four pay up and leave teh bar and are greeted by BEARDED MAN selling roses on a street corner.) 
BEARDED MAN: Roses? Anyone?
LD: No thanks. I'm ok.
KESSEL: Wait a minute...you look familiar...
SCHENN: Are you Rickard Wallin?
BEARDED MAN: Uh...yes. I am Rickard Wallin.
PHANEUF: Then fuck you, Wallin, right in your lazy eye. (WALLIN looks down and starts to cry a bit as LD, PHANEUF, KESSEL and SCHENN continue on their way. THE END)

Ask Lee Stempniak: Buckeyes are Deady Nuts

LEE STEMPNIAK: Hello Everyone! Welcome to a new episode of “Ask Lee Stempniak!” I’m Lee Stempniak, and I play hockey for the Toronto Maple Leafs. I’m here with fellow player Tomas Kaberle.

TOMAS KABERLE: Hello, all you “Ask Lee Stempniak” fans out there!

STEMPNIAK: Today, we have a multi-part letter from Aubrey in River Heights, Ohio. We’re going to take this one question at a time. Aubrey writes:

“Dear Lee Stempniak,I have this friend. Most of the time we get along wonderfully, but lately a few issues have come up that we just can't seem to reach an agreement on and it's put a strain on our relationship. We're hoping that you can provide us with definitive answers to these questions so that we can be BFF's again. (We would have asked Dear Abby, but we both agree that you most likely have a better knowledge of monkeys than she does.)

Issue #1 - Is Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, really a witch or actually a fairy in disguise? I say that anyone that has a crown, a wand, and a glowing pink aura is in fact, a fairy. My friend argues that no one that was not actually a witch would call themselves one.”

KABERLE: OK….I must confess something. I have not seen “The Wizard of Oz” beyond when it switches to colour.

STEMPNIAK: Seriously? Why?

KABERLE: It is too scary for me. I tried once, and I shut it off right after it switched to colour.

STEMPNIAK: But what’s so scary about it?

KABERLE: Oz is the brightest place on earth. It is like they live in a rainbow that’s been decorated by Las Vegas people or something. And the munchkins (shudder)…I could not sleep for 3 days after it.

STEMPNIAK: Well, for the record…in that case, I’d call Glenda a witch, because she says she is. It’s kind of like how if you know someone with a French name but they introduce it with the anglicized version. I’m not going to be that jerk who says “Actually, you’re pronouncing your own name wrong, dumbass. It’s boo-CHEY, not BOO-cher.” That’s just rude.

KABERLE: I guess that makes sense. Can we stop talking about that movie?

STEMPNIAK: Sure. Next question,

“Issue #2 - On a scale of one to ten, how wrong would it be to run down a pack of monkeys with an eighteen wheeler? I say that monkeys are disgusting and we'd be doing the world a favor. My friend says that monkeys have rights, same as people.”

KABERLE: I don’t know about the same as people, but I’m ok with monkeys. They go into space and test cosmetics for us.

STEMPNIAK: Well, Aubrey, even if you run down a pack of monkeys, there will still be more monkeys out there. You can’t get rid of monkeys. I guess it’s just one of those things you have to live with.

KABERLE: Maybe she should just avoid places with monkeys, like zoos and research places?

STEMPNIAK: Sounds good. The last question is

“Issue #3 - What exactly is a "beatnik?" OK, so we could probably Google that, but we're lazy.”

KABERLE: This is English I do not know.

STEMPNIAK: They’re like hipsters who wear all black and listen to jazz instead of wearing ironic t-shirts while listening to shitty lo-fi bands that nobody’s heard of. And they think their poetry is better than everyone elses.

KABERLE: Like emo kids?

STEMPNIAK: Not really, because beatnik poetry is all about being experimental and pretending to be some deep philosopher. Emo poetry is all how much life sucks because you got dumped and your mom won’t let you ride the bus to Hot Topic.

KABERLE: You know a lot about this…

STEMPNIAK: I spend a lot of time on the Internet.

KABERLE: Lee, your cat won’t stop staring at me…

STEMPNIAK: It’s just Buttons, Kabbie, don’t worry.

KABERLE:Was that the last question? I must, uh…give my dog a bath. (KABERLE leaves)

STEMPNIAK: No Buttons, that’s not why Tomas left…don’t look at me like that! (sighs) OK, fiiiiiiiiiinnnne, you're right. (pauses) Aww....you know I can't stay mad at you! I'll make some chicken and pasta and we can go watch Mad Men, OK? That sounds great.

LOLeafs: Getting antsy edition

as usual, all photos from AP/Yahoo

LOLeafs: fun and games edition

As always, the best Toronto Maple Leafs pictures that Yahoo! Sports had to steal, captioned with total disregard to grammar and spelling. Just the way you like it:

LOLeafs: Welcome back edition

Maple Leafs chat: Pot luck Party!

I want to thank Blindfolded Tank Driver for giving me the link that talked about the Leafs having team potlucks, which inspired this MLC

***Welcome to Garnet Exelby's House Chatroom!***
KomiKazi: Hey Ex, how’s it goin’? And I smell something really good here…
Mr. XLB: Ah, it’s my special chili!
KomiKazi: Well, what makes it special?
Mr. XLB: It’s the, um, the chili I make. That’s why it’s special.
KomiKazi: Sorry, man. It’s just that…after some time in Montreal, you learn there are just some places you don’t want to refer to something as “Special”, lemme tell you that.
Mr. XLB: Nah, I understand. What’s that you have?
KomiKazi: Uh, I brought…cups.
Mr. XLB:…
KomiKazi: AND napkins! Sorry, I’m not much of a cook. It was either bringing in cups and napkins or making my special Ramen dogs.
Mr. XLB: Ramen dogs?
Schenn_sational: They’re my favorite! You take hot dogs, and cook ‘em, then you take the ramen and boil it in the hot dog water and then you mix up the cut hot dogs and the Ramen and you put on hot dog stuff like ketchup and relish.
Mr. XLB: That…actually sounds kinda gross.
Shenn_sational: Oh. Well, I didn’t bring that, I brought in…uh…Coke. And Pepsi. And other drinking stuff.
DethKabs4QT: I brought my special Czech happy fun time cake! I hopes you all like it!
Mr. XLB: Holy crap, that’s a lot of butter!
DethKabs4QT: Butter is good for Czechs! It keeps us strong and healthy hair.
KesselRun81Parsecs: ‘Sup bros? Bras? Studs? Buddies?
DethKabs4QT: Who is that?
Schenn_sational: Uh, guy, I think you’re after the Lambda house party. That’s a few houses down—
Happy_Trails: No Luke, he’s not just some random frat boy. It’s Phil Kessel! Come on in, Phil!
KesselRun81Parsecs: Yeah, man. I know I’m kinda inviting myself over, but I figured I should get to know you guys some. I even made brownies for you guys!
Mr. XLB: Well, thanks, Phil.
KesselRun81Parsecs: I know, I know it was supposed to be defensemen makin’ shit, but I was all, “Man, if I’m new here, I gotta make a good first impression. Dress up n shit.”
DethKabs4QT: Did you…what is English word…for the thing and the collar?
KesselRun81Parsecs: Yeah, you better believe this collar’s popped!
Happy_Trails: Phil, only retards pop their collar. You look like a dog who got stitches and they have to put those cone things to keep them from eating it.
Mr. XLB: Whatever guys, chili’s done! Let’s eat!

***Several hours later….***

Schenn_sational: Man, ex, that was some good chili!
Mr. XLB: Thanks, Luke! I, uh….forgot what I was talking about.
DethKabs4QT: Phil, those were such great brownies. Thank you for bringing them.
KesselRun81Parsecs: No prob, brah. It’s some of my best stuff.
Happy_Trails: We do need to get you some better clothes, though. You should hang out with Toskala or something.
KomiKazi: Dude, or me. It’d be like “What not to Wear” except that chick you wanna punch in the lady bits won’t be there.
KesselRun81Parsecs: Toskala? Is he that goal guy who’s all ‘Laaike, I’m Vesa Toskala. I play Finnish goalie guy for hockey Leafs’?
Schenn_sational: Heeheehehee, you sound just like him. Frickin’ hilarious, man!
DethKabs4QT: Guys, why are we the only ones here?
Mr. XLB: Oh crap…I think I thought the pot luck day was today. It’s next weekend. Balls, man!
Schenn_sational: I dunno why, but I can’t stop giggling.
DethKabs4QT: You guys ever just, like, look at your hands? Like, LOOK at them?
Mr. XLB: DUDE! If you look at mine right, you see a sailboat!
Schenn_sational: I see a schooner.
KomiKazi: It’s a sailboat, dumbass!
Schenn_sational: A schooner IS a kind of sailboat!

Maple Leafs Chat: Welcome to HOTlanta

***Welcome to the Toronto Maple Leafs Chat room!***
PoniRides4ABuck: Oh, hi, TomasKaberle.
DeathKabs4QT: Hi Poni.
PoniRides4ABuck: Are you sad? You seem sad.
DeathKabs4QT: I don’t know. Maybe. Pavel was here for only 3 or 4 years. Is not long at all for a team. And he was such trouble, always shedding like cat. So much hair.
PoniRides4ABuck: I know! Nik always leave room and it look like tornado hit it.
DeathKabs4QT: We’ll be fine. They have good times ahead in Atlanta.
PoniRides4ABuck: ...
DeathKabs4QT:...
***PoniRides4ABuck has started bawling his eyes out***
PoniRides4ABuck: It still stings!
***DeathKabs4QT has started bawling his eyes out***
DeathKabs4QT: I’ll still miss him!
***Grab_bag has entered the chat room***
Grab_bag: Are you both guys OK?
PoniRides4ABuck: Uh, yeah. Fine.
DeathKabs4QT: Totally not crying over departed team mates.
PoniRides4ABuck: I have allergies and a cold.
DeathKabs4QT: And I was chopping onions and then eating onions earlier.
Grab_Bag: Oh.
***Welcome to the Atlanta Thrashers chat room!***
Pavel_Road: Hello? Anyone here?
Pavel_Road: /consumes Vicodin
Kovalchuk_Norris: Are you here to kill me?
Pavel_Road: Uh...no. I don’t think so.
Kovalchuk_Norris: Well, crap--I mean, good. Are you big guy from Toronto?
Pavel_Road: Uh, yeah. But my country requires me to do this.
***Pavel_Road has kicked Kovalchuk_Norris in the shins***
Pavel_Road: Sixty-eight! Sixty-eight!
Pavel_Road: /consumes vicodin
Kovalchuk_Norris: Fair enough.
Pavel_Road: I even bring little playmate for you.
Tim_Bit: Hi! I sleep in a drawer!
***Antrobot_80000 has entered the chat room!***
Pavel_Road:...Antropov?
Antrobot_80000: HOBO GUY! And you bring snack!
Tim_bit: Please don’t eat me!
Kovalchuk_Norris: Are you going to kick my shins too?
Antrobot_80000: No, is fine. What are all these people in Thrashers jerseys?
Kovalchuk_Norris: They are Thrashers fans! Very loyal!
Pavel_Road: They look like sacks of potatos in Thrashers shirts.
Kovalchuk_Norris: Season ticket holders! Other new guy--Don’t eat them!
Antrobot_80000: Mmmm potatoes.
Pavel_Road: You should cook them first.
Antrobot_80000: Ilya, your fans need butter.

Slash Fic Summer Entry: Being Tomas Kaberle

First entry into the contest! I'm not revealing authors until I decide a winner, because I can and I want to be all mysterious-like.

Being Tomas Kaberle

I don't know why everybody in Toronto wants to trade me. All I've ever done is my best for this team, yet the fans care more about some random prospect who might be a good player than an All-Star who loves the city and doesn't care how much money he is making. Lately I've been really hurting inside because of this. What did I do? Whose feelings did I ever hurt? And why do so many people want to hurt mine?

I need to sort this all out, I need somebody to hold me and tell me everything will be all right. Pavel Kubina used to be my go-to guy for this sort of thing. He was always so caring. Always giving me these deep stares from across the room, like he wanted to say something deep and profound but couldn't. No words were ever needed, I just felt safe knowing his eyes were on me. But now he's gone, and I will need a new hetero soulmate if I am ever to get myself through all this pain.

Everyone always talks about what a good guy Matt Stajan is, so I thought maybe I'd ask him for some advice. I found him at the rink handing out puppies to sick kids. "Matt," I said, "what do you do when you are depressed and the whole world seems to be against you?" "Well Tomas," he said, "I just find a big, beautiful pair of eyes to stare into while I pour my heart out and have a good cry. Like when Carlo and Steener were traded, that broke my heart so much." Right then and there I wanted to tell him how beautiful his eyes were, and how I could really use a friend like him, but before I could say anything he pulled out a compact mirror, stared deeply into his own reflection and murmured softly, "Carlo ... Steener ... why?" as he started to weep uncontrollably.

At a loss for what to do, I patted him awkwardly on the head and wandered over to the exercise room to work out my frustrations. Walking in, I spotted Ron Wilson doing his morning workout routine, swinging wildly at a life-sized Howard Berger blowup doll. "Coach Wilson," I asked between haymakers, "I am depressed. Everyone wants me traded. Why?"

"Well Tomas," he said, wiping the blood from his knuckles, "when things don't go well in this town, everyone tries to place blame. Usually they pick the guy they expected to lead the team over the top. And when the team fails, the fans decide they need to go another direction. They decide that player can't help them and must be traded, no matter how talented he is or hard they tried to help the team win.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Are you saying I am that player?”

“Basically,” he said, placing a bloodied hand on my shoulder, “you've become Bryan McCabe."

"Oh," I said. All I could say was "Oh".

Has it really come to this? Am I Bryan McCabe? I wanted to tell Coach Wilson how much I missed Caber and all those nights on the town, and how much he would have loved to have coached a player with such a big heart. But before I could blurt it out, Coach Wilson cut me off. "Sorry Tomas,” he said in a dismissive tone, “I'd love to keep chatting but I've got to go bench press Simmons right now."

Reflecting on my conversation with Coach Wilson, I came to the sudden, sad realization that my time in Toronto may be done. I love this city and this team, but maybe Caber was right, maybe a fresh start isn't as a bad as it first seems. Perhaps I could even join my good friend Kyle Wellwood in Vancouver. After all, he says there is a bakery near the beach with muffins to absolutely die for. Mmm, sweet, gooey, delicious melt-in-your-mouth muffins ... I'm starting to feel better already!

Czech Mates, part 2

Czech Mates Part 1



There are still no entries in the Slash fic Summer contest, so here is Czech Mates 2 to spark your creativity. As before, this is from Pavel Kubina's perspective.

I knew my chance to reach Tomas was getting smaller all of the time. At the end of the season, I knew I would be open game to be traded, and I wouldn’t see him except as an opponent. It made me sad and nervous that I only had maybe one more chance to talk to him before it was too late.

There was a Leafs end of the season party, and so I went. I put on some of my best clothes, and I even shaved. I triedto get myself excited and pumped up for the party. I thought “Tomas will have to notice me now.” But then I feltself-doubt creeping in. I thought, “What if he doesn’t laugh at my jokes? What if he’s not interested in me like I’minterested in him? I shouldn’t even go--I’ll just look like a fool anyway. Maybe I should just stay home and watch cartoons.” I stopped and looked in the mirror. “Pavel”, I said, “you’re a handsome man, you’re fun to be around, you work hard, you’re full of energy, and you’re all around a good guy. Who wouldn’t want you as a buddy? You’re going to go to that party and have a good time!”

The party wasn’t anything special--just the guys hanging out, having some drinks, telling stories about each other,Jason Blake trying to convince the rookies to do dumb stuff. In other words, the usual. I saw Tomas all alone in a corner, like he usually was. Even in his own house with his closest friends, he was still so shy. It was something Iliked about him--he never needed to show off or impress anyone. He at least made an effort to go to things like thiseven though I could tell he’d rather not. Maybe all he needed was a little help from the right person, a very close friend, and he could be more comfortable in himself....

I tried to talk to him as something deeper than teammate and “guy I know.” I really did try so very hard. But I stumbled and stuttered and he stumbled and stammered back. We ended up trading short, pleasant bits about theparty, how the weather was finally getting better and stupid stuff like that.

I went to get another drink in hopes that when I came back I would be bolder. and still I couldn’t talk to him like I wanted. I finally excused myself for “another drink” and asked my friend Matt Stajan for advice. I didn’t know if hecould be of any help, but anything he said had to be better than listening to my inner voice calling me an idiot. I explained my situation and Matt told me, “If you really want him to notice you, just grab his ass. It’s how we roll inMississauga.”
“Oh.” I said. All I could say was “oh.” I knew I couldn’t have enough courage to be so bold with Tomas. If anything,a move like that would scare him away. I thought that maybe if I sent him an email later, explaining how I felt, maybe if I could talk with him when it was just us, he could be a little more at ease. But part of me gave up that night, simply because I could never have the courage, no matter how much I wanted it.

I tried talking to Tomas one more time, and it was still awkward and hard. The night between us ended in a long hug.I could feel that Tomas wanted something but he also didn’t have the nerve to say something. I left empty handed and heavy hearted. I kept looking over my shoulder and thinking I could go back...but I know that was just my dumb heart talking and that maybe I should listen to my head instead.

Year End Leafer Awards, FINAL CHAPTER

(NOTE: because I strained my right hand stacking hay, I can't really do any formatting to make this look nice, and typing left handed sucks. Sorry)
part 1
part 2
part 3


WILSON: My God, that’s Hollweg’s music! (a car pulls up and parks with RYAN HOLLWEG and JUSTINPOGGE inside. They get out)
HOLLWEG: Yo Pogge, you gotta do my welcome speech.
POGGE: Do I have to do the speech?
HOLLWEG: uh, YES. That was the bet!
POGGE: But why do I have to keep doing it?
HOLLWEG: Cuz I’m not the dumbass who thought the Lakers were going to win the Superowl, now am I?
POGGE: (sighs) FINE. A-hem, Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for a brush with greatness! He is a legendamong mere mortal men, leaving s trail of wonder, awe, and very satistifed women in his wake. He is better than meat everything, including dancing, arts and crafts, lovemaking, and the guitar. I have no friends, and will never knowthe touch of a woman. I present to you all, the proud owner of a 13 inch penis, Ryan Hollweg!
HOLLWEG: Good job, Pogge. I knew I kept you around for some reason.
POGGE: I just wish I wouldn’t lose so many bets to you.
HOLLWEG: I can’t help it if you lose so much. I try to keep you on the right path, but no, you just have to keep falling off it.
POGGE: You try to keep me on the right path? Oh bull! I bet you 20 bucks that I won’t gamble for the rest of the day.
HOLLWEG: 20 bucks, huh? You’re on.
POGGE: All right!
HOLLWEG: Well, pay up then.
POGGE: Pay? What...(figureing it out) Oh, you assclown!
HOLLWEG: Do you want to make that double or nothing?
POGGE: Oh, hell’s yes!
HOLLWEG: Well then, where’s my money?
POGGE: But I...see, the thing is...you douche monkey! (pays HOLLWEG the money)
WILSON: Well, Ryan and Justin, I certainly didn’t expect to see you guys here.
HOLLWEG: It’s a Leafs Barbeque, isn’t it?
POGGE: Yeah, so where are our beer, broads and burgers?
WHITE: Oh, Hollweg didn’t herd in the women with his 13 inch penis? That wasn’t very nice of him.
WILSON: But you two are part of the Mariles now, not the Leafs...
HOLLWEG: We played for the Leafs a few times!
POGGE: Isn’t that enough?
WILSON: You know...I think there’s an information session thing over at (mumble) West Street for those who wantto play in the KHL. I think you two could kick ass and take names over there. WHITE : Yeah, and uh... the women are real crazy in bed over there. You’d love it.
MITCHELL: Yeah! Grabbo’s always telling us abut all the crazy stuff they do. Right, Grabbo? (GRABOVSKI saysnothing while clutching his prizes and creepily staring at people, like he has been all afternoon) ...right. WILSON: I think that presentation is starting soon, so you should head over RIGHT NOW.
HOLLWEG: Mumble West? Got it! C’mon, Pogge, let’s score us some crazy hot Russian bitches! (HOLLWEG andPOGGE leave)
STAJAN: Phew, that was close.
MITCHELL: I dunnp which is worse--Pogge marinating in AXE or Hollweg smelling like...Hollweg.
WHITE: Did they kill any of your grass?
WILSON: No, but I think it’s wilted a bit.--CUJO! What the hell? Get Jeff Finger out of my petunias!
JOSEPH: Sorry coach Wilson. (Knocks FINGER unconscious) HE won’t crawl in there and puke again.
BLAKE: I found duct tape! Should we tape him and Kabbie to this tree?
JOSEPH: Good idea! ( JOSEPH, BLAKE and KUBINA duct tape KABERLE and FINGER to the tree. KUBINA finds a Sharpie and draws a Freddie Mercury-style mustche on KABERLE)BLAKE: Heh. Great idea guys. Kubie, how’s yuor sandwich and bum wine?KUBINA:It is good ham sandwich. The drink makes my mouth feel all tingly and numb.
KABERLE: ( drunk Czech/English hybrid babble)
KUBINA: Shhhh, Tomas. You go sleep now.
KABERLE: I love you, muffin!
KUBINA: ...yeah, me too. (JOSEPH, BLAKE and KUBINA leave KABERLE and FINGER taped to the tree.)
BLAKE:What was that all about?
KUBINA: (defensively) What? I like muffins, too! There’s nothing wrong with two guys who like muffins!
BLAKE:I never said there was anytrhing wrong with it! (PONIKARVOVSKY arrives) Poni!PONIKAROVSKY: I’s so sorry guys. First, I got a call there was a lanky Kazakh in Boreger King orderingcheesebourgers for kitties, so I ran there hoping Antro came back. But... it was just some crazy homeless man.
KUBINA: You still miss Nik?
PONIKAROVSKY: Soo much! Grabovski’s ok, but too crazy. And Kulemin just stares at me with open mouth, likegoldfish. But then, after Boreger King, I found I had bad directions to this house. They took me to garbage dumpplace!
WILSON: Weird. Maybe whoever gave you directions didn’t know where my house is.
PONIKAROVSKY: But Coach RonWilson, YOU gave me the directions!
WILSON: Well Alexei, it’s time I was honest. You see, I just don’t like you.
PONIKAROVSKY: But why, Coach RonWilson? I work hard at practice, talk to newspaper people, keep Grabovskifrom killing people. I’s great guy!
WILSON: OK you guys! The old lady is giving me “that look” so you all have to get the hell off my lawn! Get outtahere!
STAJAN: (mockingly) Or what? You’re gonna call Officer Peters to tase my ass again?
WILSON: Don’t get smart with me! Just because you’re man pretty doesn’t mean you can stay here!
KUBINA: Hey guys, we should go in search of fried chicken and large breasted strippers!
BLAKE: I don’t think my wife wouldapprove of that.
KUBINA: Medium breasted strippers?JOSEPH: It sounds good enough for me. Let’s go! (TEAM leaves, except for FINGER and KABERLE)
WILSON: Finger and Kaberle, eh? I hope you boys like playing in Tampa.
END

Leafer Year End awards, part 3

Part1
Part 2


BLAKE: Well, we should put Kabbie somewhere he’ll be OK. You know, where we won’t step on him or anything.
KUBINA: That sounds like a good idea
BLAKE: Now, I can never remember: is it ok to draw on people ONLY if their shoes are off or on? He’s missing one shoe.
JOSEPH: Beats me. I’ve been drawing on passed out Jeff Finger for 15 minutes.
WILSON: But his shoes are still on!
JOSEPH: But his pants are off! I figure a lack of pants trumps shoes.
STAJAN: Wait...doesn’t Asher Roth say in that song “Don’t pass out with your shoes ON”?
WHITE: But that’s all he says. He doesn’t say anything about getting drawn on.
KUBINA: Besides, he is missing one shoe. Do we draw on only half of him?
BLAKE: Forget it. Let’s just tie him to this tree and steal his wallet or something (BLAKE and KUBINA drag KABERLE to a tree and go in search of tape or rope to tie him there.)

MITCHELL: Matty, how long are you going to wear that stupid mask?
STAJAN: I’m going to wear it as long as I need to. I need to protect myself. Plus, it makes me feel like I should be running around going “Na na na na na na na na na STAJAN!” or something.
WHITE: That would rock. You need a cape, though. (police car arrives, OFFICER PETERS gets out)
WILSON: Well, Officer...Peters. What seems to be the problem?
OFFICER PETERS: We’ve gotten a report of a suspect in a convenience store robbery who may be in this area. We’re looking for a Caucasian male, blond, about 6 foot tall, athletic, and wearing a black leather cat mask..actually, he looked kind of like that guy (Points at STAJAN)
WHITE: But he’s been here the whole time.
MITCHELL: yeah, he’s been here all day--I could vouch for him.
OFFICER PETERS:Is that an open container?
STAJAN: We’re just hanging out, having some beer and stuff--
OFFICER PETERS: Sir! If you come any closer to me, I’ll be forced to tase you!
STAJAN: (as a joke) Don’t tase me, bro. Heh heh (OFFICER PETERS tases STAJAN, who falls on the ground screaming and cursing)
OFFICER PETERS: Recent legstaion states that we are legally allowed to taser anyone who says "Don't tase me bro." Well, everything looks inorder here. Have a good day (OFFICER PETERS leaves)
WHITE: Holy crap! Are you ok, Mat?
MITCHELL: GAH aahahahaha, you got your ass tased, Matty!
STAJAN: Dude, this isn’t funny!
MITCHELL: I can’t breathe, I’m laughing so fuckin hard!
STAJAN: Oh crap, look my hands. They’re shaking like crazy!
WHITE: I kinda wish I had some paint or some cocktails for you to shake up. (from nowhere, the song “Low” by Flo Rida starts)
WILSON: My God, that’s Hollweg’s music! (a car pulls up with RYAN HOLLWEG and JUSTIN POGGE inside and parks on the lawn. They get out.)

What kind of crazy shenanigans could Pogge and Hollweg bring? Be sure to stay tuned to the same Domi station, some Domi channel.

Year End Leafer Awards, Part 2

Part 1

(KABERLE re-enters the room with a half consumed bottle of tequila)
KABERLE: WOOOO! Let’s get drunk!
KUBINA:I don’t get it, He can drink beers at lunch, drink champagne all night long on NewYear’s Eve, and does vodka shots better than Lindsay Lohan. But when he drinks tequila…BLAKE: So are you saying tequila makes his clothes fall off?
KUBINA: Something like that.

STAJAN: You know something Whitey? I like beer.
WHITE: Mmhmm. Beer is good.
STAJAN: Yeah man, it’s like liquid bread.
MITCHELL: Dude, where the hell is Schener? I wanted to get him shitfaced!
WHITE:I know! That would have been hilarious.
STAJAN: (takes out phone) I’m calling him right now
LUKE SCHENN: Hello?
STAJAN: Schenners, it’s Matty. Why aren’t you here?
SCHENN: Where’s “here”?
STAJAN: The year end awards at Old Man Wilson’s place
WILSON: I heard that!
STAJAN: (To WILSON) No you didn’t! (To SCHENN) So, what’s so much cooler than hanging outwith us?
MITCHELL: Tell him I’ll put mu tongue in his ear!
SCHENN: I’m just in Switzerland and Europe, seeing some sights and stuff.
STAJAN: Whatever Schenny. Say hi to your mother for me. (hangs us on SCHENN, then gets another call) Hello?
WHITE: Matt, I dunno why, but I felt like I had to call you.
STAJAN: Dude, I’m, like, ten feet away. Just say something to me.
WHITE: Sure thing!
STAJAN:Say hi to your mother for me. (BOTH hang up. VESA TOSKALA enters on crutches due to his recent work/surgery. )
WILSON: Vesa! I sure didn’t expect to see you here!
VESA TOSKALA:Well, laaike, The Vesa almost missed you guys so I was laaike “You should go and say hi to them, Vesa.”
STAJAN: Vesa, did you...bedazzle your crutches?
TOSKALA: Well, yanno, when you’re injured, you kinda get bored, so you, laaike, do some crazy things.
WHITE: Is that why you shaved your head?
TOSKALA: Ya, besides, it’s laaike summer already and it gets hot here, unlaaike in Finland. KUBINA: TOMAS! What are you doing?!
KABERLE: SHH! I’m talking to Freddie Mercury! He says he can take me to the Seven Seas ofRhye! Isn’t that awesome?
KUBINA: But--You’re drinking tequila, not rye! You’re not making sense.
KABERLE: We’re here! (attempts to sing the piano intro to Queen’s “Seven Seas of Rhye”.) BLAKE: Kabbie, that’s not a sea. That’s a kiddie pool filled with ice, beer and various winecoolers.
KABERLE: WOOO! (jumps into kiddie pool) It’s such COLD rye, Freddie! (attempts to sing aterrible English/Czech/Drunk slurred version of “Seven Seas of Rhye” while pretending to swim)
BLAKE: Holy crap, Kubina, what did you put into his drink?
KUBINA: NOTHING! I put nothing in his drink! My drink drugging days are over!...Besides all Ihad on me were some Tic-Tacs.
KABERLE: I swear you’ll soon be miiiine...I take you to the seven seas of Rhye! (KABERLE trips over the edge of the pool, falling face first onto the ground)
STAJAN: Kabbie!...THE BEER! Is it ok?
WHITE: The beer is fine, and so is Kabbie...JERK.
KABERLE: Freddie, that was not not cool.
BLAKE: Hey Kabbie, do you know what would be really nice? It’d be really nice if you got somewater or maybe something to eat to go with your tequila.
KUBINA: Oh, he didn’t have that much, just (grabs halfs empty tequila bottle) this much. BLAKE: How is he still standing?
KUBINA: Is Czech thing. We start training young.


Will Kaberle’s tequila-fueled trip be all that’s in store for him? Will there be any surprise guests?Be sure to keep reading for part 3 of the 2009 Year end awards!