The sensational Swedish Toronto Maple Leaf, William Nylander, stares up at the clouds. His boat Snizz Whizz rolls on the waves of the North Atlantic, the coast of Norway is a dark smear on the southern horizon. Snizz Whizz has been on the water for four days, drifting to and fro where the ocean takes her. Typically the summer seas are peaceful and playful, and most of Wily’s voyage has been under a sun blessed sky. Today, finally, dark clouds rise up in the North and a cold wind heralds a coming storm. Wily raises a long harpoon, carved from a Narwhal horn, and bellows at the sky.

“Witness!” Wily’s blonde hair is tossed by an answering gust of wind.

“Vem pratar du med?” The woman, one of Wily’s special friends, simply refuses to speak English. “Kan vi åka hem? Det är kallt.”

“We should be heading home soon.” Wily assures her. “Just go sit with the others below deck for a little. The storm should pass quickly.”

“Kommer du?” She asks.

Wily has forgotten her name, and her formal Swedish is getting on his nerves. She is very attractive though and Wily is loath to disappoint a lady.

“I have some things I have to do.” The Leaf gives her one of his less devastating smiles, it still dazzles her. “I’ll come down when I’m finished. I might be a little wet.”

“Oroa dig inte.” She says with a wicked grin. “Att vi blir våta också”

Wily just shakes his head with a chuckle and turns his attention back to the gathering gloom. He stares out across the tempest tossed waters, not even worrying about the Snizz Whizz or her brave crew. His only thought is for what’s coming up from the depths. Wily’s patience is set, he will wait all day if he must. His gaze rests on the rolling waves, his grip tightens on the harpoon, his mind wanders to the conflict to come, his phone rings. At first he doesn’t recognize his new ringtone and when he does he is surprised to see who’s calling.

“Hello?” Wily says almost sheepishly.

“God damn it you beautiful Swede, how long were you planning on letting your phone ring?” It is Toronto Maple Leaf GM and living hockey legend Lou Lamoriello. “What if I was calling to tell you I’m sending you to Colorado?”

“Are you trading me?” Wily is shocked at the notion.

“That’s not the god damnable point is it? The point is that you need to answer your phone when I call, and you need a hair cut.”

“I just got a hair cut last week.” Wily lies.

“Well you need another one. Golden locks are probably flapping in the breeze right now. And stop messing around with all those girls.”

“What girls?” Wily asks, hoping Lou has no specific girls in mind. he is not looking at the coming storm anymore and so misses a plume of spraying water in the distance.

“I don’t know, all of them.” Lou growls. “Whatever girls you’re messing around with, stop it. And cut your hair.”

“I’m not messing around with any girls Lou.” This is not technically a lie since Wily respects the six special friends he brought along enough to consider them women.

“Bullshit.” Lou rarely accepts technicalities. ” I bet there are at least five girls within spitting distance of your balls right now. If you bring the clap into my dressing room I’m gonna neuter you with a cheese grater. Is that what you want? In front of the whole god damned team? I’ll do it, I swear.”

“Lou, I believe you, okay, I believe you. ” Wily really did believe him. “I promise I am always careful, and I’m not even messing around with any one right now.” Also not technically a lie since there was six of them.

“You better not be. And you better cut your hair.” Lou lets the command hang.

“Yes sir.” Wily answers, knowing when not to push.

“Look, the reason I called,” Lou clears his throat. “Like I said, I know you’re always meeting up with different girls and I was wondering if you could hook me up.”

“What?” Wily is stunned. The spray plumes closer to the Snizz Whizz now, but Wily still doesn’t notice.

“Never mind, it’s stupid, just forget it.” Lou almost sounds flustered. “Cut your hair.”

“No, it’s fine.” Wily knows laughing out loud would be suicide, but it’s a struggle. “I can send you a few numbers, no problem. You gotta close your own deal though.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Lou says. “I have cash, and if that doesn’t work I have weed and liquor.”

“Then you’re golden.” This time Wily laughs. “Lou, I’m going to let you go, and I’ll send you those numbers right away okay. Great, bye.”

Wily drops Lou before the GM can respond. With a glance out at the heaving sea,Wily forwards a couple of old contacts to Lou, women who like money, who will like Lou. Wily has to put down his harpoon for the task and so he is unarmed when the moment he has been waiting for finally arrives.

The Sjöorm, a massive sea serpent with a legendary ferocity, breaches directly in front of Snizz Whizz. Wily reacts quickly, picking up and hurling his harpoon hard. The plan had been to stick the beast by its throat, the job would be harder now with the harpoon piercing the scaly hide ten meters below. The coil of rope attached to the harpoon plays out quickly, Wily grabs on and is yanked off his feet.

Wily bounces off the Sjöorm’s hide once but plants his feet before looking down. Meter after meter of whale size bulk still erupts from a sea that is suddenly very far away. Wily looks up at the monsters head and climbs, knowing he needs to act fast.

Over generations the Sjöorm has adapted a hunting technique specifically designed to catch human sea traffic. The beast swims from the deepest depths as fast and as hard as it can. It breaches nearby the target vessel and lifts its whole gargantuan bulk out of the water. As gravity begins to assert itself the Sjöorm points its nose at the doomed ship and lets nature take over. Most incidents of ships vanishing are the result of a Sjöorm attack.

Wily reaches his harpoon as the Sjöorm begins to fall. He waits until he is above the head before pulling out the harpoon. Sprinting down the body is made harder by the slimy scales of the deep sea monster, luckily the beasts own massive size and strength have worked against it, giving Wily the time he needs to run up to Sjöorm’s great eyes. Wily drives his harpoon deep into the dread beasts skull and leans hard over, steering the Sjöorm away from Snizz Whizz.

The Leaf and the Sjöorm vanish into the water with hardly a splash. The crew of the Whizz scan the seas for any sign of their brave lord. Even the storm has backed off, as though watching to see who will prevail. A full two minutes passes before the Sjöorm breaches again, with Wily still gripping the harpoon lodged between its eyes. This time the Sjöorm does not get its whole body out of the water. Barely ten meters of monster emerges and it flops with a splash onto the now gently rocking seas.

Wily dives off the falling corpse and swims easily back to his boat even with the harpoons rope in his teeth. He hands the rope off to the captain of the Snizz Whizz before pulling himself on board.

“That took more killing than I expected.” Wily is not even breathing hard. “See that you get a bit of tongue captain, as well as at least two teeth. Smaller ones I think.”

“Aye Lord.” The captain answers.

“And fill the hold with as much meat as we can carry.” Wily says. “Give the rest to the depths.” Wily had hoped that this victory would ease the pain of losing the last game he played with his Toronto Maple Leafs. It hasn’t. Some of Wily’s sadness must have shown because the captain puts a tender hand on his shoulder.

“Are you hurt Lord?” The captains concern is heartfelt.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Wily brushes the captains hand away. “Just make quick work of the harvest and point us home captain. It’s time to go home.”

Wily heads down below decks where his special friends are waiting for him in his private cabin. It will take almost a full day for the Whizz to get back to her harbor. From there Wily would be on the first flight back to Toronto. Until then he would just have to try to enjoy himself.