Wednesday, October 06, 2010
So, you think you can GM? Ya, you and all the guys on Antichambre, the louts in the cheap seats, Jack Todd, H/IO's mouthbreathers, and every Jean, Richard and Henri on the street. You know what? YOU'RE ALL CRAZY. Just like our celebrity guest GM's.
This team is a team of winners. I picked them to win. So if they play for me, Ari Gold, they will win or they will pray to have their assholes shut because I will manually insert a cantaloupe in every single player's should one of them fail to compete. The Molson's sold to Ari Gold and Ari Gold took care of business. I fired Pierre Douchefuck Boivin and his coat tail riding, look at me I think I'm the new Theo Epstein, son. I call the shots now and I'll fire a round of them in your brain if you don't play your fucking tail off for me. And just for shits and giggles, I made myself GM.
This is Gold's team now fuckfaces and we don't do mediocrity. You wanna be mediocre under the Regime of Ari then you can immediately dip your balls in acid because if I happen to find them i'll cut them off your nut bag. The word average happens to cross your mind for a micro-second in any of the 82 games we pay you to win, you better book an appointment for a lobotomy because I will jab my fingers through your nose so deep I'll rip the thought right out of your head.
Gold baby. That's the name you play for. The Montreal Gold. You may want to call yourselves Canadiens internally but you know that when your paycheque says Gold at the bottom, you don't sweat for anyone else but me. And yeah, if you don't sweat every single ounce of those putrid juices out of your glands, you can rest assured I'll extract the shit out of you by squeezing every inch of your flaccid body with a giant industrial dough roller.
But how can any of that happen when I chose these boys myself? It can't. I didn't get my NFL team but that only made me hungrier for my true lustful fantasy. Meeting Stan Smyl and owning the Montreal Canadiens.
I've got the best group of top-6 skaters this side of your mother's obesity. They can do it all.
It starts with my captain, Brian Gionta. Anybody question his size again I'll feast on a meal after a game at Queue de Cheval, purposely not take a dump for a week and vomit four-day old bison meat down your throat. The man is a giant. He's got better hand-eye coordination than anyone in the league. He'll will you to victory. He'll lift the chalice of the champion at centre ice again. Count on Gionta for 80 goals this year. Anything less and I'll see to it that the only sport that diminutive molecule could play would be jockey for a pony.
I got Michael Cammalleri. This guy's my everything. I would rather trade my wife and kids for a year of untreated syphilis than watch Mike Cammalleri play for anyone else. He's gonna get every opportunity to score on every shift he plays and he will. Because if he doesn't, I'll send his ass down to the minors and move our farm team to Phnom Penh.
Andrei K has said K bye, nighty night, ciao bellarussia to his stir-the-pot-since-I-can't-play-hockey-for-my-life brother. The mob ties are gone and that's a start, but Andrei K knows that if he wants to play with me he's got to score 60 goals on the penalty kill and legally sever his brotherly ties to that donkey fuck.
Then you've got Tomas Plekanec. I negotiated that boy's contract myself but I told Tomas that if he really wanted to earn his money he'd have to show me how much he wanted it. So I made him drop his agent and go through the entire negotiating process in Aramaic. Bastard didn't know a fucking word of it when it all started but he showed his mettle. Fluent as hell now and can talk up an Aramaic storm. 70 points this year again, but this time he'll get the 70 points in the playoffs otherwise I'm going to slice off his ears Reservoir Dogs style and make him read lips during Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ.
...crazy celebrity cameo...
Mel Gibson: Did you say anything Gold? You fucker, you dropped me this summer!? Won't return my phone calls, won't answer my mails?! AFTER ALL THE MONEY I'VE MADE YOU! YOU'RE A FUCKING WHORE GOLD! AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU'RE A FUUUUUUUCCCCKIIIIING JEEEEEWWWW!!!!!! AH FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD TO FINALLY SAY! A FUUUUCKKINNG JEW, GOLD!!!! WHAT A FUCKING RELIEF TO HEAR MYSELF SAY IT! YOU FUCKING JEW! I FUCKING HATE YOU. YOU MAKE ME FUCKING DIZZY WITH ALL YOUR JEWYNESS! IS THAT EVEN A FUCKING WORD????!!!!! YOU MAKE MY FUCKING LOSE MY HEAD, ARI GOLD!!!! AND I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU. ARGHH, ARGHH!!! (Heavy breathing...). TAKE YOUR JEW CANADIENS ARI AND SHOVE THEM UP YOUR FUCKING JEWISH ASS!!!!! ARGHHH!!!!!! ARGHHHH!!!!! You make me sick.....ah you make me sick....YOU MAKE ME FUCKING SICK ARI GOLD YOU FUCKING JEW!!!!! YOU'RE FIRING ME???? ME????? FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU DON'T FIRE ME!!!!!!! I FIRE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND SO......ARGGGHHH, ARGHHH (Heavy breathing...)....YOU'RE FIIIIIRRREEDDDDDD!!!!!!!!! You fucking jew....
ARGGHH, ARGHH... (Heavy breathing...)....
... end of crazy celebrity cameo...
I'm left with either a Lars Eller who wants to show the world that he wasn't the equivalent of acid reflux in the Halak deal or Benoit Pouliot who wants to show the world that his Mr. Invisible trick last spring wasn't reason enough for me to punch him in the face with a Unicef box. The only Lars I care about plays drums for Metallica so if the other One doesn't do the trick on the ice, one call of Ktulu and Enter the Sandman in the ring to administer a round of assault and Battery that would leave the boy drooling in a Sanitarium for the rest of his life.
The last little man standing on my list is a little Mexican treat,... but the dent he leaves on my bank account for his 50 points makes me want to enlist him in the Juarez police. That waste of my mistress's leisure fund gives me no fucking choice but to entice him with my best argument. Scott Gomez, you make me forget the Bill Gates fortune you're costing me every day, and you play BALLS OUT hockey for 82 games plus 26 in the playoffs, you Alaskan malamute, and I'll let you bang Sofia Vergara, the woman that would make any Latino male with a pulse freaking levitate Exorcist style. You do that for me Scotty and Sofia is Vergaring your balls for a night. Anything less than perfection from you and you'll get ass raped by George Lopez.
Done. That's my argument for the best top 6 guys in the league. Ask me if I care if you beg to differ. I beg to not give a fuck.
Now where the fuck is that Asian Barbie Doll who calls himself an agent? LLOYD!!!!!