When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. The Leafs have undergone a major overhaul this year. Of all the changes, none has been more impactful than the addition of a squadron based tactical deployment that head coach Mike Babcock and GM Kyle Dubas designed to keep the peace on the mean Toronto streets. Today we follow Horse squad: wingers.

When taken over by the wolf, Toronto Maple Leaf Patrick Marleau has no fear. Day after day, battle after battle, the wolf is always eager for more. With a howl his claws dig deep into the belly of the giant squid that has been terrorizing lake Ontario.

The first ever recorded sighting of this freshwater Architeuthis dux was when it dragged three people off of the ferry going out to the island. It had been spotted several times since and the body count was rising. The trouble was that the Toronto Maple Leafs had not been able to pinpoint it on any conventional radar. It was Patrick that came up with the idea of baiting it. Now Patrick was going to get that bait back if he could. Not out of any sort of fondness, for it was no Toronto Maple Leaf in the belly of the giant squid, but simply because it was right. So Patrick would risk his life for a rival.

The squids soft flesh parts easily enough under Patrick’s long lycan claws. The squid grabs hold of Patrick with one of its arms or legs or tentacles, whichever is most accurate and least offensive to you. Patrick kicks out with his feet until he feels the appendage then he digs at it until it lets go. The werewolf lands claws first on the squid and begins to dig deeper. The squid dives.

Holding his breathe, Patrick keeps digging until he finds what he seeks. Ripping the wererat from the giant squids belly is easy once Patrick has a firm grip. The Leaf kicks off the squid and drags the sodden lump of twisted flesh to the surface. Of all the varied and various races that grace this world none is more completely vile than the ever odious wererat. From long pointy nose to gross pink tail everything about a wererat makes a stranger want to kill it. Luckily for this rat the werewolf that pulls it up onto the beach is no stranger.

Patrick drops the sodden creature and waits. He soon notices it isn’t breathing so he kicks it hard in the gut. With a tortured gasp Boston Bruin Brad Marchand, the wererat, sits up.

“Thanks for the save.” Brad says through his slobber. He licks out a nostril with his hideous tongue.

“You are the worst.” Patrick says. “I hate you.”