“Why not?” Kyle Dubas demands.

“Because I like what I like.” Lou Lamoriello is as stubborn as ever.

The tension in Toronto Maple Leaf tower is high the day of the trade deadline. Even after the deadline has passed the Leafs General Manager and his assistant are not willing to yield an inch.

“Well I still think you’re wrong.” Kyle lets his frustration show.

“That’s why you’re my assistant kid,” Lou smiles wickedly. “Because you think, while I know. Now help me figure this out.”

“I already told you there’s nothing to figure out, you just have to practice.” Kyle sighs. “Okay, head out on an expedition, I’ll watch.”

“Should I eat first?” Lou asks.

“You should always eat.” Kyle states the obvious.

“What should I eat?” Lou asks.

“Whatever you want.” Kyle thinks before elaborating. “It all depends on the buff you want. I like to boost my defense, but just pick one you like. Once you get more comfortable you’ll start making custom platters, but it doesn’t really matter at this stage of the game.”

“Okay, I’ll eat the meat then, I like meat.” Lou enjoys the meal. “Okay now I’ll go on an expedition.”

“Great.” Kyle says. “But are you sure you want to use the Hunting Horn? It really is the worst weapon.”

“I told you I like it.” Lou spits. “It’s the only weapon without any combos to memorize. I can just button mash like back in the good old days.”

“Yeah, but if you’re not using the songs…” Kyle is interrupted.

“Just watch me work junior.” Lou focuses on the T.V. as the Ancient Forest loads.

For the next five minutes Kyle watches as Lou makes his way through the forest. Occasionally the younger man makes some observations but for the most part he watches. Finally Lou finds his prey, the terrible Anjanath. without delay Lou runs right up to the monster and smashes it in the tail with his horn.

“Hi!” Lou shouts with glee.”

The monster roars an ear piercing blast of sound. Stunned, Lou can only watch as the great beast picks him up in it’s jaws and throws him to the ground. Lou manages to land three solid hits on the beasts snout before being knocked over again. As he stands the Anjanath whips its tail around and just like that Lou is being carted back to his campsite.

“Fucking bullshit!” Lou shouts. “What in the fuck am I supposed to do against that?”

“For starters don’t just rush in.” Kyle says. “Just watch for a little bit, wait until it gets into a vulnerable spot. A great way to begin any hunt is with a mounting attack. Another thing, once you’ve taken a hit get out. Heal up before you get back into the fight. Anjanath is mean, but it’s attacks are obvious and he doesn’t recover well. Sharpen up and head back out there.”

“Okay.” Lou says, nodding his head, recognizing the value of the advice.

Toronto Maple Leafs president Brendan Shanahan walks into Lou’s office without knocking. He takes one look at Lou on the couch with his PS4 controller and grins.

“Sweet, Monster Hunter World.” Brendan sits beside Lou. “You kill Anjy yet?”

The streets of Pittsburg have been attacked by carnivorous plant creatures. Sidney Crosby and Phil Kessel of the Pittsburgh Penguins are hard pressed as they work against the ravenous flora. Phil weaves his powerful gut magic to burn through hundreds of the beasts with spouts of acid spew. Protecting the mage, Sid lashes out with bare feet, obliterating anything that gets too close with a tireless flurry of kicks.

Despite their power the Penguins are nearly over run. Suddenly a blob of mercury splashes into the mob of plant monsters. The liquid metal whips out to destroy dozens of the things at once then coalesces into Toronto Maple Leaf Tyler Bozak.

“Hey Phil.” Tyler greets his old friend. “Great game tonight.” Tyler makes his hands into whips and joins in Sids efforts clearing out the plants.

If the Penguins super star notices the help he makes no sign.

“Are you alone?” Phil asks between volcano burps.

In answer the horde of beasts is shattered with a meteoric force. Toronto Maple Leaf super star Auston Matthews wields his bastard sword like a hurricane landing in the centre of the mob.

Now the battle steps up in fury. Great monsters, taller than houses stride amongst their smaller kin. Hundreds, thousands of hungry fangs strive to rip the four hockey players apart. Phil and Tyler are stretched to the limits of their endurance. Auston and Sidney appear at complete ease surrounded by foes. Though opponents on the ice earlier this evening the two work together as if they had trained for battle side by side since birth.

Gradually the pressure recedes as the beasts withdraw, regrouping for another attack.

Phil leans against a wall gasping for breath. Tyler sits heavily on the street. Sid and Auston stare at each other. Finally Sidney breaks the silence.

“You didn’t play very bad tonight.”

“You kicked my sword.” Auston replies.

“No I didn’t.” Says Sidney.

The two lock eyes. Silence builds in the street. The encroaching plant monsters slowly slink away, recognizing powers beyond their means. The glass of nearby windows begins to crack under the building pressure. The pavement between the two men begins to buckle.

Thinking quickly Phil belches to cut the tension. “You guys got time for hotdog?” He asks.

Toronto Maple Leaf Kasperi Kapanen awakes with a start and jumps to his feet. He is in a strange place, in the chill clammy glow of a Wiftchalouge Tree. Unable to use his powers in the grim shine, Kappy can only raise his fist as the Tree’s master approaches.

The witch is carrying a long rusty dagger. A raven is perched on her shoulder and two great toads waddle beside her. Her black eyes shimmer with a bloody light and her rasping giggles get louder with each shaky step.

A weight forces Kappy to his knees. He tries to fight but the weight grows greater. The witch bends down to whisper in the Leafs ear.

“So young, so strong, so tasty.” Her putrid breath makes Kappy ill. “So sad that it’s not for eating. No, cursed it is, and cursed blood draws strong magic.” The raven squawks and flaps it wings. “Yes, yes, my love you may eat him after, whatever’s left. But we must drain him. That’s why he’s here.”

One of the toads sits staring into Kappy’s face. The other one is out of sight, but not out of mind as he feels it crawl up his back to sit between his shoulders. This is the final straw. Kappy grinds his teeth and presses back hard against the magic holding him. He calls upon the strength of his ancestors and shakes the toad off his back.

“Fuck your curse!” Kappy shouts. He isn’t standing, but he isn’t bowing either.

“So strong,” says the witch. “So very surprising.”

Out of no where Mark Hunter, Toronto Maple Leafs assistant general manager, steps into the clearing. The witch hisses.

“Fie! Due! Rathillal!” Flames spew out of the witches mouth in a powerful jet. The flames reach out to engulf Mark, who doesn’t break stride. The second button of his sport coat glows an icy blue and the flames are sucked into it.

“Slassid! Chrayna!” The witch points at Mark and a chill wind coats him in ice. The ice shatters and gets melted into the button which glows fiery orange.

Mark reaches the witch and grabs her by the throat. She stabs at him with her dagger. It explodes when it hits the button which shines brightly. Mark squeezes hard, Kappy can’t help but wince at the sound but he stands up freely as the witch falls to the earth.

The eerie glow of the Wiftchalouge Tree is reluctant to fade but it does, leaving Kasperi and Mark in total darkness. Mark flips his zippo and takes hold of Kappy’s shoulder.

“Can you use your powers?”

Kasperi is a teleporter, and he and Mark are soon home safe, though perhaps not free…

Auston Matthews smiles as he steals a glance at the clouds and pale blue sky. The pure beauty of our planet threatens to overwhelm him as it always does. The Toronto Maple Leafs all-star can’t help but look for shapes in the clouds. He sees a whale and a castle and an otter before a bird darts across his pristine sky.

Returning his attention to the swarm of lesser demons pouring through an unstable dimensional tear, Auston cuts through three of them with one swing of his sword and kicks another’s head clean off. His backswing eviscerates five more of the horrible things and he reaches out his free hand to help his ally up.

“Thanks.” Says P.K. Subban. “We don’t get a lot of demons in Nashville. I thought I could take ’em.”

The Nashville Predators will face the Toronto Maple Leafs tomorrow and P.K. was looking for fun off day of super adventure when he caught the attention of the demons, or perhaps their master. Auston arrived just in time to keep P.K. from being overwhelmed.

Together, the two make quick work of the remaining demons. P.K. turns himself into a great bear and tears into the centre of the mob. The few that survive his rage are easily dispatched by Auston’s blade.

Reverting back to man shape P.K. grins as he takes in the carnage.

“That was awesome!” P.K. says. “So your powers make you super fast and strong?”

“What, oh no, um… my powers are, um, different.” Auston says sheepishly.

P.K. is stunned but hides it well. “I’m looking forward to playing against you tomorrow. Wish it could have been more of a regular thing but, you know.”

“Business” Auston nods. “But things are working out good for you.”

“Yeah.” P.K. agrees.

“And you have to like how your old team is struggling.” Auston says with a smile.

“Yeah.” P.K. agrees. The Predator points to the shimmering gash in space and time. “Shall we?”

“After you.” Auston insists.

“Fuck the Habs!” P.K. shouts as he dives into the portal.

Auston follows, his smile bigger than ever. “Fuck the Habs.”

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.

Like so many people I suffer daily from nothing more than being. I work a physically, and mentally demanding job with unpredictable hours and genuine consequences. Suffice it to say that most days I wake up wishing I hadn’t.

I have a magnificent family and a level of comfort that most of the planet would envy and I enjoy none of it. To make matters worse I love the Toronto Maple Leafs, which hasn’t been so great, although it’s getting better every day.

So I struggle, lots of people struggle, so what. The reason I bring it up is because throughout my struggles, whenever I ask people how to feel better the only answer I ever get is to just do it. I find this advice less than helpful. What is helpful is this, my blog. A Fly on the Leaf is my way of coping.

I want to enjoy life, but first I need to be able to cope with it. So I write funny stories about my favourite hockey team. It may not seem like much but that’s the point. We need balance in our lives. My nerve wracking job is mitigated by tales of fantasy. If you are struggling I hope you can believe that it’s possible to get by. Start small, find a thing and never let it go.

Much love and good luck with being. #LetsTalk

Due to recent events the staff here at A Fly on the Leaf decided to get some answers. We wrote to the National Hockey League asking for an answer to that age old question; what is goalie interference? What follows is the leagues reply:

Dearest fan/blogger,

The rules for goaltender interference are as clear today as they have been for the last hundred years.

If a goal is scored but the goalie was interfered with than it is not a goal.

But if the goalie was interfered with and had a chance to get back into the play then it is a goal.

But if the goalie had a chance to get back into the play and an opposing player in the crease is wearing an odd numbered jersey than it is not a goal.

But if the odd numbered opponent in the crease has a last name ending in KY and the price of green beans in Antwerp is under $2.40/lb than it is a goal.

But if the price of green beans in Antwerp is under $2.40/lb and Sagittarius is under the influence of Mars than it is not a goal.

But if Sagittarius is under the influence Mars and the lion at the Bronx Zoo is asleep than it is a goal.

But if the Bronx Zoo is under renovation and there’s no Swedish meatballs left in the cafeteria because of a clerical error than it is not a goal.

Unless the goal was scored for or against the Toronto Maple Leafs, in which case the referee will discretely flip a coin.

Hope that clears things up.

Yours Truly, Gary Bettman

P.S. Get Bent

So there you have it. It’s actually a lot simpler than I had expected.

Mike Babcock looms over his Toronto Maple Leafs. He has the team seated in a large circle around centre ice and he looks each player in the eyes as he walks slowly around them in his old rubber boots. Mike hasn’t said a word in over two hours. The heat is turned way high and the rink has started melting. The Leafs are soaked, uncomfortable, and stoic in their bepuddled jocks.

“Everybody close your eyes.” Mike says, expecting to be obeyed instantly. “I want you all to focus on your breathing. For a moment pay attention to each breath in, and then follow it up with a nice breath out. Really breathe yourselves empty. And let’s all just do that for a moment. Good, nice, easy. Now, when your ready I want you to start following this rhythm. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

Mike walks the circuit around his team repeating himself over and over. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.” His words become a sonorous blur in each players consciousness as they drift closer and closer to nirvana. Each man on the team takes their own journey, but as they take their separate roads the destination never varies.

“In through the nose and out through the mouth. Good.” Mike is speaking in a whisper which echoes across the Leafs minds. “Now as you breathe I want you to remember. Remember a time that you had to beat someone. Someone was bigger than you once, meaner. Remember what it took to beat them. We are playing an Ottawa team that can’t beat anyone but us. Let that thought fester as you sit and stew. Before I leave for the night I want to hear our game plan one last time.”

“Fuck Ottawa!” The Leafs say with one loud voice ringing clear and true with determination.

“Fuck Ottawa.” Mike answers proudly. “See you in the morning. Remember to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

Mike turns off the lights before he locks up for the night.

Toronto Maple Leaf William Nylander uses his aura of bewilderment to dance his way through the hapless young vampires guarding Dracula’s Library.

Fellow Toronto Maple Leaf Mitch Marner creates a dozen illusion copies of himself, further confusing the young vamps.

When recruited into Dracula’s undead ranks the poor fools had been seduced by the promise of amazing power. In some ways they had received everything they wanted. Sadly their paltry abilities are barley enough to challenge the awesome pair in their fury.

Eight headless corpses soon shrivel to dust and the Leafs are free to peruse the Vampire lords vast collection of ancient books.

“How are we supposed to find this special book?” Mitch asks.

“We look.” Wily answers simply.

The two young heroes get to work. No one ever said being a Toronto Maple Leaf is easy. Neither man is after easy. They seek glory, and no matter how hard it is Mitch and William will be glorious.

Here comes a bye-week and do the Leafs ever need it. The goals that seemed to come so easily before are getting harder and harder to find. I, for one, do not find my belief wavering. But I wonder sometimes how the boys feel. I know that athletes are trained to visualize success and all that. Does that mean they never have doubts?

The answer is they must, because they’re human (even Auston). Of course the challenge of maintaining a high level of performance will wear down even the most well prepared. So what, right. So… a few days off are just what this team needs. Relax and recharge and let the grind carry on without them for a bit.

I believe that this is a good time to for the Leafs to be fighting for results because I believe they will find another level of play in response.

I believe in Auston and Mitch and Wily and Morgan and Naz and Jake and James and Tyler and Patrick and Zach and Freddie, my dear sweet Freddie, and Roman and Leo and Ron and both Connors and Matt and Josh and Dom and Travis and the Goat (and Nikita too).

Rest up boys. It’s time to get serious. Your city needs you.