Lou Lamoriello sits alone in his palatial office on the 41st floor of Toronto Maple Leaf tower. He is smoking a very large joint and sipping on a pint of brown liquor. The antique rotary phone on his desk begins to ring. Lou answers it.

“Hey, it’s me.” Lou listens for a moment. “Make you’re offer, but I’ll tell you up front we aren’t really interested in a trade right now.”

The Toronto Maple Leafs general manager listens patiently for a minute. He waits a beat before responding.

“Is that it? You’re done?” Lou breaths in deeply and holds it in before bursting into laughter. “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. You’re dumb, goodbye.” Says Lou hanging up the phone.

Lou takes a long pull off his joint and a long sip from his glass before his phone rings again. It is a different NHL general manager with a trade proposal. The conversation unfolds almost exactly like the first one with a subtle wrinkle.

“Ha ha ha ha ha. Go fuck yourself.” Says Lou, hanging up the phone. It takes almost fifteen minutes before Lou’s phone rings again. This gives the Leafs GM ample time to empty his leathery old bladder.

The conversation is very different this time. After Lou hears the offer he takes a loud drag on his joint.

“Say that again.” Lou says exhaling smoke. The rival GM repeats himself.

“Well that settles it.” Lou says. “I know you smoked that cheap crack again. Take your fever tweaker bulkshit somewhere else. Love you buddy. Bye bye.”

Lou hangs up and leans back in his chair. Without knocking Brendan Shanahan, Lou’s boss, walks into the office and pours himself a drink from Lou’s full sized bar.

“How’s your day going? Get any calls?” Brendan asks.

“A couple.” Lou answers. ” some decent proposals but nothing I’d be willing to move on.”

“Well if someone knocks your socks off you let me know.” Brendan says.

“Will do boss.” Lou says, doing his best impression of a smile.

Brendan downs his drink and leaves Lou to his business. Little did he know, Lou wasn’t wearing any socks.