Brendan Shanahan holds his torch high as he leads Lou Lamoriello through the Toronto Maple Leaf labyrinth. The flames send out a smoky orange light which bounces off the many precious gemstones embedded in the rough stone walls. They have been traversing the underground maze for over an hour and Lou has long since given up trying to remember all the twists and turns along their path.

Brendan finally stops at what appears to be a dead end.

“If you don’t know the way I am gonna be really cheesed off.” Lou says.

In answer the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs presses two of the gemstones in the wall, a small diamond and a large topaz. There is an electronic buzz and the wall before them splits open to reveal a small chamber.

The walls of this secret room are different than the walls of the labyrinth. They are cut straight and smooth and, they are painted lime green. Lou can see the colour easily because, also unlike the maze outside, the room is well lit from above and below. The effect of the luminesent floor and ceiling is that Lou feels as if he is floating when he enters.

The room is completely empty except for a circular pen, open at the top. There are broken pieces of several toys strewn around as well as colourful pages ripped from various childrens books. The culprit behind this chaos sits in the center of the cage.

It is a pigmy marmoset with big beautiful eyes that glare hatred at the intruders. As soon as Brendan and Lou enter the room the Marmoset hisses loudly and makes to leap at them.

“Not the face!” Lou yells as he readies a defensive kick at the tiny little beast.

The marmoset hurls itself at Lou but is held back before it can reach the walls of the pen. Lou sees several thick cables running from the floor of the room directly into the Marmosets back. The cables are what keeps the beast tethered. A yellowish puss weeps from the stainless steel adaptors embedded in the creature. Even though it cannot reach, the animal claws and hisses at Brendan and Lou, looking back and forth between them trying to decide who to maul first.

“This would be funny if it weren’t so pathetic and cruel. And I like cruelty, but not to cute little animals, just big ugly ones like elephants. So whats the deal Brendo?” Lou demands.

“I brought you here because it’s time you learned the biggest secret of the Leafs.” Brendan is uncomfortable. “I wish Mike was here too. I wanted to explain this to both of you.”

“Explain what?” Lou asks.

“This monkey.” Brendan tries to fill his words with gravity.

“It’s a pygmy marmoset.” Lou corrects.

“This marmoset.”

“Pygmy marmoset”

“This pygmy marmoset is actually Harold Edwin Ballard, former majority owner of our Toronto Maple Leafs.” Brendan is expecting shock and awe, what he gets is dumbfounded confusion. “Just before he died in 1990 he used experimental military techniques to have his mind transplanted into this monkey.”

“Pygmy marmoset.” Lou corrects.

“Whatever, apparentley the transplant was a success and the Leafs have been keeping the mon… Pygmy marmoset alive ever since.”

“What are the cables for?” Lou asks.

“We aren’t sure. Brendan admits. They were originally part of the transplant process. Our techs have analyzed them but all they can tell us is that the cables are actually a junction of all the old telephone lines for the Metro Toronto area. Essentially this pygmy marmoset is connected to every land-line in the city.”

Lou is shocked. He looks closer at the creature, trying to reveal the mysteries it holds with his gaze alone.

“And you say it’s been down here since Harold died.?” Lou asks.

“That’s right.” Brendan says.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Lou says. “Even the most well cared for domestic pygmy marmosets are luck to survive for twenty years. Ballard has been dead for over twenty five. This thing should be ancient, but look at how lustrious his coat is, and look at those white white teeth. As healthy a furball as I have ever seen.”

“That’s not even the strangest part.” Brendan says. “Apparently it only sleeps after the Leafs win, but it hates to sleep. I have watched it after wins. It hisses and screeches uncontrollably then collapses like a string-cut marrionette. Exactly the same every time.”

Lou shakes his head in disbelief. The implications of this cybernetic meld of human and animal staggers the imagination. Lou can not decide if he would rather inhabit a cheetah or an eagle. Certainly some sort of apex predator. And with cellphone technology being so far ahead of what it was in the nineties Lou would certainly be able to get those cables shrunk down to a more manageable size, if he even needed them at all. Sim-cards implanted throughout his spinal column might do the same task.

“What was the name of the doctor that did this?” Lou asks.

Mike Babcock walks into the room before Brendan can answer. The head coach is a tornado of energy that sucks in the eye of everyone in the room. Even Harold is mesmerized by the presence Mike exudes. The animals eyes lock on the coach and it sits completley still.

“Hello, sorry I’m late. You know how busy I get on game day. Who’s this little fella.?” Mike steps into the pen before Brendan or Lou can answer and holds out his hand to Harold the pygmy marmoset. “Don’t be scared.”

Harold backs away from the outstretched hand and Mike edges a little bit closer.

“That’s Harold Ballard.” Lou says. “You already missed the story, don’t ask Brendan to tell it again. Your lucky I’m not in charge here. I’ve fired coaches for only showing up ten minutes early. Can you believe this guy, Brendo?”

“Don’t worry about it Lou. Mike is very busy.” Brendan says. “The reason I asked you both to come down here is because we need to figure out what to do with this creature. Our analysis proves that in some way the play of the Leafs is directley linked to the behaviour of little Harold here.”

“The curse of the Ballard era.” Lou whispers.

“I don’t know about any of that.” Says Mike. “Look at the thing, it’s in pain, and it’s frieghtened. Come here little fella, it’s okay.” Mike slides a little closer and picks up Harold. The pygmy marmoset stiffens at the contact then relaxes into Mikes arms, head resting on his shoulder. “There, there, little one. There, there.” Mike repeats again and again as he gently strokes the animals soft fur. A gentle hum, like a pur and a groan, escapes from deep in Harolds throat.

“Aw. I think the little fuzzy is sleeping.” Lou says. “He really likes you. There’s your answer Brendan. Mike needs to stay down here and be Harolds keeper.”

Mike looks up at Lou and Brendan, still stroking Harolds fur. “There, there.” He says. Then he wraps his hand around Harolds tiny neck and squeezes with a twist. The pygmy marmoset is killed instantly. Casually tossing the corpse to the floor, Mike steps out of the pen without a second glance at the body. “Problem solved.” He says.

Brendan and Lou stare at the coach, stunned at his cold blooded display.

“Someone should say something.” Lou says. “I mean it was Harold Ballard after all, even if his mind was trapped in a horrific science experiment.”

After a moment of silence the men speak in unison as if the words were a spell, and maybe words do hold the power to create.

“Dear God and Lord Stanley, thank you for bringing us together here in Toronto and please help Steven Stamkos find his way home.”

Mike is the first to break the silence that follows. “If that was all, I gotta go. Lots to do, you know. Lot’s to do.” He walks out of the room and into the dark of the labyrinth.

Only as Mike leaves does Lou realize that the coach found his way through the maze by himself, and apparentley in the dark. “I really love that heartless bastard, but damn do I want to fire him.” He says to Brendan. “Let’s go grab a pizza.”