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The Great Sea parted, with Bruin players and fans amassed unmercifully on two compressed fronts. The Habs army began to march through with confidence, in praise of this great breach. And soon thereafter, the walls began their devastating descent on the trapped Canadiens, caught in a bewildered state of paralysis and confusion. If the Bruins had appeared the weaker opponent for so long a time, incapable of winning let alone scoring on this Montreal team, today they are now transformed, the better team of the series. The waves conquered the Canadiens and tumbled on them with fury.
Now, as the team is left to lick its wounds on the shores following this devastating storm, all that is left is the certainty of a seventh game and an imperative need to draw from faith. Because all that is left is faith. And it is said that Carey Price rose from the sands, where he had laid in sadness and fatigue, and climbed atop a mountain in search of guidance. As he rose to the peak, his heart swelled with hope. The skies began to change and a breeze started to blow, and a faint rumbling could now be heard all around him. Carey turned his glaring eyes towards the distance. A hollow voice called out to him. Lightning cracked the red sky open.
-Carey Price. Carey Price!!! CAREY PRICE!!!!
- Yes, God? Is that you?
-CAREY PRICE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING MAN.
- I know God, I'm not worthy.
- EIGHT GOALS IN THE LAST TWO THIRD PERIODS? YOU'RE FUCKING KILLING ME, CAREY PRICE.
- I know God, please don't be angry, I'm just tr
-ANGRY? I'M NOT ANGRY I'M FUCKING PISSED CAREY PRICE. DON'T BE ANGRY HE SAYS.
- Please God, let me explain.
-LET ME EXPLAIN, LET ME EXPLAIN, YOU SOUND LIKE A LITTLE BITCH CAREY PRICE. HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MEDAMNED MIND?
-No God, I promise I haven't. It's just been two bad third periods.
- DON'T YOU EAT A FUCKING PORK RIB AND CALL YOURSELF SHLOMO, CAREY PRICE. YOU'VE BEEN A FUCKING FISH OUT THERE. A FUCKING FISH.
FLAPPING, SUCKING FOR AIR, BOUNCING AROUND LIKE A FUCKING FISH. YOU'RE KILLING ME MAN.
-What do I do God? Help me.
-WHERE THE FUCK DO I BEGIN, CAREY PRICE! YOU WAIT TILL GAME FUCKING 7 TO SCALE THIS FUCKING MOUNTAIN FOR ADVICE? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK THIS IS, COSTCO? WAIT UNTIL THE RESERVES RUN DRY THEN LOAD UP FOR A FUCKING YEAR? YOU THINK THIS IS FUCKING COSTCO, CAREY PRICE?
- No God, I swear I don't think this is Costco. I'm just desperate.
-YOU FUCKING MORON STOP SLOUCHING AND STAND BEFORE ME LIKE A FUCKING MAN! YOU'RE MAKING A FOOL OF YOURSELF.
-Sorry.
-YOU TAKE WHAT I'M GOING TO TELL YOU, CAREY PRICE, AND YOU FUCKING TAKE IT GOOD. THEY DON'T MAKE THIS SHIT ANYMORE SO YOU LISTEN GOOD. YOU LISTEN TO WHAT I SAY AND THEN YOU GO OUT THERE AND FUCKING GROW SOME FUCKING BALLS.
-You bet. Tell me.
-FUCK YOU'RE SUCH A PUSSY. OK, THIS IS IT. TEN THINGS. TEN FUCKING THINGS CAUSE I DON'T THINK YOUR LITTLE ATROPHIED BRAIN COULD TAKE ANY MORE. TEN THINGS TO GO BY.
- THOU SHALL NOT EVER TRY A HASEK MOVE AT THE END OF THE THIRD PERIOD AND ATTEMPT TO STOP THE GAME WINNING GOAL WITH HIS BACK TO THE PLAY.
- THOU SHALL NOT ALLOW THE OPPONENT TO SCORE ON YOU AT WILL WHEN YOUR TEAM'S OFFENCE HAS SUDDENLY COME OUT OF IT'S FUNK AND PROVIDED YOU WITH ALL THE GOALS NEEDED TO ADVANCE TO THE NEXT ROUND.
- THOU SHALL NOT DROP A PUCK IN FRONT OF THE CREASE AS IF ONE WERE FEEDING A FUCKING DOLPHIN.
- THOU SHALL REMEMBER THAT SINCE THOU ALREADY RUINED THE PASSOVER SEDER, A BIT OF OVERTIME WOULDN'T HAVE FUCKING KILLED US.
- THOU SHALL NOT OPEN UP THE FIVE HOLE AS IF IT WERE AN EGYPTIAN VAGINA.
- THOU SHALL NOT SHAVE HIS HEAD LIKE A STUPID CHILD IN THE MIDDLE OF A PLAYOFF SERIES AND THOU SHALL NOT ALLOW OTHER TEAMMATES TO INDULGE IN SAME. YEAH SO WHAT IF THERE ARE 2 RULES HERE, THESE ARE MY FUCKING COMMANDMENTS.
- THOU SHALL NOT EAT ANY BREAD DURING THE PLAYOFFS. IF THOU ISN'T MAKING ANY BREAD DURING THE PLAYOFFS, THEN THOU SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO EAT ANY.
- THOU SHALL NOT DISPLAY PICTURES OF GARTH BROOKS ON HIS FACE MASK AND LOOK LIKE A PHILISTINE HICK.
- THOU SHALL NOT ALLOW COMPARISONS TO OTHER ROOKIE GOALTENDERS GET TO HIS HEAD.
- THOU SHALL NOT LOSE A SEVENTH GAME. CAUSE IF YOU DO, OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!
....NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.
Carey began his descent, visibly moved by the experience. He trekked back to the shores where his deflated teammates had been resting after the night's collapse.
The Captain lifted himself off the ground when he saw Carey appear out in the distance. The whole team rose to their feet and watched him approach. He stopped and stood before them. "Guys, I think I have the solution".
Then the Captain spoke: "Dude, what's with the grey mohawk."