The Toronto Maple Leaf atrium is empty but for two men who sit side by side on a bench eating lunch.

“There’s no way Jesus was a carpenter.” Lou Lamoriello says between chews of his pastrami sandwich. The meat is bad for his heart but Lou gives very few fucks.

“That’s not really, I mean, what?” Brendan Shanahan thought Lou had called him to a meeting to discuss his legal issues, not eat sandwiches and discuss theology. Still, Brendan can’t help but appreciate the warmth of the thick cut marble rye in his hands. It is a very good sandwich.

“Think about it.” Lou does not stop eating as he speaks. “Carpentry is way to easy, the only difference from then to now is that we have electric saws and nail guns. Other than that nothing has changed, measure, cut, nail, repeat. There’s no way you are suffering for all mankind doing a brainless chore like that.”

“So what do you think he did?” Brendan swallows his food before talking.

“It’s obvious.” Says Lou, not letting a single fleck of meat escape his flapping maw. “Jesus was a plumber. Think about it, dealing with shit all day would have made lepers seem like a break. Plus they fused all the pipes with lead back then, which explains all the hippy-dippy love and peace talk. He was high on the lead fumes, who else talks with god on the regular but a dope headed doper. It all adds up to a conspiracy to hide the truth.”

“Okay, but why would anyone want to cover that up?” Brendan thinks his question is reasonable, just like he thinks bringing a drink to accompany the sandwich would have been reasonable.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lou asks. “Everybody hates plumbers, they are the ugly fat ex of the trades. No one even wants to talk about them, let alone give them any sort of distinction. Much cleaner to give the son of the lord an easy job like carpentry.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with the team.” As President of the Toronto Maple Leafs Brendan rarely indulges in diversions for long.

“I thought it was obvious.” Lou says. “Whatever we do, the people who write our story are going to make up whatever they want to fit their angle.”

“I like our team.” Brendan says. “I think our forwards are scary and I feel like our defense is sneaky good.”

“We won’t surprise anyone this year.” Lou remind Brendan.

“I don’t think it will matter.” Nothing can dampen Brendan’s spirit. “I think they learned a lot in that series with Washington. I think they saw how thin the line is between victory and defeat, and they saw what it looks like when a team pushes together. I know it won’t be easy, it only gets harder the closer we get to the prize. I wish I could go out there and skate with them, but instead I find myself sitting back, managing my expectations. I didn’t think I would need to do that so quickly.”

“Well you better get used to it.” Lou says before he crams the last quarter of his sandwich into his mouth. He chews, breathing heavily, for several minutes before swallowing. “The team is good, not great, not yet, but they damn well could be. Here.” Lou reaches deep into a coat pocket and pulls out a cold beer, which he hands to Brendan before fishing up one for himself.

“I agree.” Brendan lets the cool beer ease his parched mouth before saying more. “We aren’t great yet, but I don’t think we do anything other than watch for at least the first quarter.”

“I would sign Jagr.” Lou says. “If I could convince him to play for the league minimum for a year.”

“Jagr?” Brendan is surprised. “Who’s spot do you think he will take?”

“Nobody’s.” Lou admits. “I figure he could sit in the press box all year instead of some kid who should be playing on the Marlies.”

“That’s actually not totally stupid.” Brendan says after another refreshing sip of beer. “But he’ll never agree to it.”

“I know.” Lou says before downing his entire beer in one chug. “Just like I know Jesus was a plumber.”

Brendan sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Just think about it.” the beer has let Lou’s passions slip. “If you were writing a book that you wanted to pass off as the one great book that everybody has to own would you really make that book about a turd herder? Not a chance. But I’m telling you I know tradesmen and that’s exactly what he was. working himself to the weary bone day after day just wishing and praying for some kind of way out. Then one night he had a hazy, lead induced, hallucination and the path was crystal clear. He abandoned his shitty job, pun intended, and sought out the secret wisdom of the ancients, which he then tried to teach to the rest of us. Too bad about his students being money hungry douchers, but at least the man tried.”

“Amen.” Brendan replies, not really sure what else he can say.

“Goddamned right, amen.” Lou agrees loudly. “And another thing, I think we gotta lay off Castlevania for a few weeks.”

Dracula’s mythical castle has risen in Toronto, and only the Maple Leafs have the power to stop the dread lord from reigning terror on the world, making Lou’s request seem ludicrous. Brendan treats it as such, not even answering.

“Just hear me out.” Lou insists. “If it looks like we are focused on hockey we might be able to trick the vampires into lowering their guard.”

“I suppose.” Brendan looks sceptical. “But I won’t let anything happen to the city.”

“Of course not.” Lou agrees. “If Dracula sends monsters out into the streets we’ll stop them, let’s just take a break on dungeon crawls.”

At that moment an alarm sounds throughout Toronto Maple Leaf Tower. Brendan checks his phone.

“Speak of the devil.” The President can’t help but smile. “Monsters in the streets.” Brendan activates his team communicator. “Go Leafs! Go!”