“But look at all the horseys, I love horse.” The manchild spoke. His neadrathal eyes gazing out at the sun setting on the knoll below him. Stretching to the horizon, it was full of wild horses, and below the horses a whole bunch of wild horse shit.
“I know King, we all do, but thats not not why you created The mark 2. We need to get back to the ship and continue the search.” Said number 2
King DJ turned around to face the Hendricks clones, flanking the entrance to a large dirigible with the face of DJ King on it. Although it looked the same as the dirigible the Caps took to their away games, this airship was much smarter, it had a practical ph.d in superstring theory; and was able to fold all 10 dimensions to travel to any point in all of infinite multi-verse.
 |
| "Now that we've finished this bullshit exposition" said the reader, "let's have some dick jokes." |
‘Pretty cool though’, the Hendi clones thought (all at the same time) that first night DJ King had appeared to them in the dumpster behind Verizon. And they were proven quite right the moment they stepped on the ship. When King explained something had happened to Bruce, the man they were calling coach had been replaced, something clicked in all their brains at the same time. Why would Bruce throw them out?! Why would bruce start playing trap?! Something ...was wrong, clearly. They left the banana peels they had grown so close to and jumped on the ship to search across the reaches of every possibility in the uni... the multi... the everyverse for the only man worthy of leading the great team, Brugs Beedreyoh
Back at point ALI8923889∂åßY094568Y82å∂35FSUBß∂HFKUBZå©ASDG5# in the everyverse, as DJ king turned around to take one last look at his favorite place in all of existence, a grizzled man with dark eyes sprinted out the Mark 2’s door.
“We’ve got a hit!” said Old Fighter-man Carlson, fully aware of the pun he had made. He mimed punching as he said it, unfortunately for him clones don’t have a sense of humor, and aside from understanding multi-dimensional membrane interactions DJ King was a fucking idiot, and was busy trying to lick the air to taste horses.
“Lets go!” the clones waved at DJ, and the motion excited him so he followed.
Of course, whenever a negative boner causes an explosion so loud it’s heard across the everyverse, theres no doubt its heard by evil agents as well, and Bruce was no fucking fool, he knew his shit. Gabby set Slan-mans timer for 10 minutes. He dragged a stool right in front of Teemu, grabbed the wooden spoon, and sat down.
“Why are you here!? I didnt do anything worng, we’re winning! We’re winning! HA! AHA!” Slanman’s nose exploded with snot bubbles. Grossed out almost to the point of needing to masturbate to conquer the sensation, Gabby grabbed a tissue and held it up to the finnish flash, who promptly blew out his presumably blue and white boogers.
“I...” the one with hair paused. “...Youre not Bruce. HA! ...AHHA! You won’t do anything to me! HAHAHA!”
“Wrong. The man you call Bruce is an impostor”
“Youre not him! HA¡HAHAHAHA™¡¡¡¡¡¡ NOT HIM! NOT! HIM!”
“No, I am Bruce” said Bruce “that fucking bastard isnt Bruce” said Bruce. “His name is Moose Mason” said Bruce “not Bruce” said Bruce. “He is the evil twin brother of Bruce” said Bruce. “And thats me” said Bruce. “I am Bruce” said Bruce. “Bruce” said Bruce. “And he is going to destroy hockey as we know it” said Bruce. “now tell me everything...”
“hahAHHAHAA!!” said the finn, who was apparently in the midst of a mental breakdown. “YOU MAY BE BRUCE HAHAH! BUT YOURE NOT HIM!! HAHAH! You Cant hurt me! NOT LIKE HIM! I TELL YOU NOTHING! NEVER!”
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| "Puke is hard to Photoshop" said Bruce |
“Well, you got one thing wrong”
“What”
“I will do whatever it fucking takes for the motherfucking Lord” The giant shaking Bruce grabbed the snotty-ass tisse and jammed it in the fins mouth, covering it with his hand, forcing it to stay shut. “...Stanley’s Cup”
The poor Slan-man’s eyes rolled back into his head and he made a monstrous sound, heaving forward. Vomit shot out between Bruces fingers, he kept his hand steady though, like a real bad-ass mother fucker, only moving his face in closer, coming eye to eye with the increasingly sympathetic hockey legend.
“Let’s start easy, How the FUCK did you know I wasn’t him?” Bruce removed his hand the Slan-man gasped for air, spitting out the mostly dissolved tissue.
“The smell! HAHA! You dont smell like him. He smells like, like burning.”
“Of course” said Bruce with a smug glance on his face, “He must not have much time left, he has to make his move now!” Slan man-looked confused so Bruce felt obliged to drop more bullshit exposition. “See Mr. Flash, When we were young there was clearly something fucking wrong with Moose. He was always a fucking hellion, raping the elderly and ripping limbs off babies and the like, but when he was 10 he almost died. Would have been the best fucking thing that ever happened to The Boudreu clan. He had committed so much evil his heart caught on fire, it burned for a fucking year in which he killed nine hundred and twelve people. Causing agony to others fueled his heart, but even a demon of pure evil needs a heart to move around its blood supply. One day he dropped to the ground, his heart completely ash, he was rushed to the hospital and they gave him a pacemaker. We tried to put him in therapy, take care of his anger issues, but in the first session he killed his doctor and wrote a note all over the walls using the blood. He blamed our parents for loving me most, they had met an old mysterious, but quite possibly retarded King when I was young. The king told them I would be the greatest hockey coach ever, so naturally they loved me more. Moose vowed to kill them, and get revenge on me by killing all that I loved. They were dead before nightfall. I was allowed to live, to love so that I could watch it all die. The burning, his heart must be aflame again, the slowly melting pacemaker a ticking timebomb to his demise, he has a small window to destroy the things I love most, the Caps, the Cup, and Myself.”
Applause. With all his commercial training, Bruce fucking nailed the speech. The downside of preforming a long self-aggrandizing monologue, is that your audience might get bored (Slan man had passed out about 4 minutes ago due to his negative boner pain) and you get so into yourself you forget reality.
“Bravo” a voice said from behind Bruce, snapping Bruce out of his metaphorical spotlight.
“How long has that timer been going off?”
“At least the 12 minutes we’ve been here.”
“shit”
“You talk unbearably slow”
“Thats mean, You’re mean” said Bruce “Im Bruce” said Bruce, who was a fan of repetition.
“I know, thats my job” said the neo-nazi looking cunt. “that and score goals.” Corey Parey stepped forward. Behind him a teeny swiss goalie sat atop the giant bushy mustache of a greek, and a guy with a giant C on his shirt, even though it was just a t-shirt.
“Lemme guess, that stands for cunt” The tiny hojo laughed and laughed swinging Perros cock tickler back and forth. Getzlaf punched Bruce right across the face. Bruce returned his gaze toward the goon. “Your mama teach you how to punch?” And again bruce got hit, spitting out a tooth, he stood his ground and looked back up. “You don’t know what you’re doing son.”
“We know exactly what we’re doing. HHHAAAAALLLLLLLAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAGGGGGGAAAAAAAHHHHHHAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAGGGGGGGAAAAAAA.”
He started chanting, the others joined in. Bruce could only stare as their eyes rolled back in their heads. Getzlaf reached over toward CorPer and unbuttoned his shirt. He pressed against his chest, “HHHAAAAALLLLLLLAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAGGGGGGAAAAAAAHHHHHHAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAGGGGGGGAAAAAAA.”
and then... “HHHAAAAALLLLLLLAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAGGGGGGAAAAAAAHHHHHHAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAGGGGGGGAAAAAAA.”
 |
| Parros gets afrocentric up in this bitch. |
...it gave way. Some gushy sound effects later Getzlaf pulled his fist out of CorPer. Holding his still beating heart. “HHHAAAAALLLLLLLAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAGGGGGGAAAAAAAHHHHHHAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAGGGGGGGAAAAAAA.”
And it was on fucking fire.
Next Time: A King is Crowned.
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