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Heres the latest from those zany leafs...
Chapter 14: in which a stop in Warroad is considered, Antropov and McCabe have
rockstar skills (but Belak doesn't (and he can't talk)), and Renberg hopes that
soup will solve everything
So, the guys were still driving through Minnesota. And if they weren't driving
through Minnesota, they are now. But that isn't important. The important
thing is the sign that McCabe noticed out the window as he drove.
"Hey, guys," he said. "Look at that. Warroad Minnesota, Hockey-town USA!"
"Let's stop!!" said Antropov excitedly. "I've always wanted to see Warroad,
Minnesota."
"You have not!" Domi yelled. "You're just trying to stop me from finding my
loofa. You bastard."
"Damn communist," muttered McCabe angrily.
"He's got a point," said Sundin. "I mean, we have to find his loofa and my
Filipo, and get back to playing hockey relatively soon, right? This league-wide
athlete's foot outbreak can't last that long."
"I thought it was malaria," said Renberg.
"I heard yellow fever..." said Mogilny suspiciously. "Oh, well. Whatever the
strange disease that has mysteriously infected the entire NHL except us is,
Sundin's right. We have to work fast."
"You guys don't get it," said Antropov. "You don't understand what Warroad
means to me. Gather around." McCabe pulled over the bus, and everyone got out.
They built a campfire (because they were in a desert in Minnesota so it was
safe) and gathered around Antropov. Belak pulled out an acoustic guitar.
"I wasn't really planning on singing it," said Antropov. "But... thanks."
Belak muttered something utterly incomprehensible. Really, no one had a
freaking clue what he said.
"What?" asked Renberg.
Belak said something in his garbled little Belak-speak, which sounded
absolutely nothing like what he had said before.
"What the hell is wrong with him?" asked Renberg.
"I guess... I guess we can incorporate a musical element, then," said Antropov.
"Just... yeah..." Belak began to strum his guitar.
And so, Antropov began his story:
"When I was a young boy, growing up in Kazakhstan,
So poor, no skates, on ice I ran,
I dreamed at night of a magical game,
A game without a Kazakh name,
And one day from..."
Antropov paused dramatically, and his eyes lit up as he whispered with great
reverence, "America."
"I was sent a gift, of clothes and food,
It was so nice. I was like, 'dude.'
Best of all, there was a shirt.
This shirt was so damn cool it hurt.
'Twas pink, with a map and a star
Now kick in the hard rock guitar
Because that shirt, it said..."
Keeping in mind that Antropov had been taking headbanging lessons from McCabe,
he then jumped up and began to screech like that ACDC guy, "Warroad, Minnesota...
Warroad, Minnesota..." This took everyone by surprise, especially Belak, who is
really the quiet, folky type when it comes to music and never actual managed to
kick in the hard rock guitar. Of course, McCabe more than made up for it with
his ass-kicking air guitar moves.
They sat down again, and it was only then that they realized that Belfour was
gone. "He's probably in the bus," said Mogilny. "Someone go get him. We want
this to be a complete consensus decision."
As the other guys tried to recover from Antropov's awesome display of rockstar
skills, Renberg went into the bus. To his surprise, he saw Belfour looking out
the window towards the other guys and crying.
"What's up?" asked Renberg, trying to maintain that balance between manliness
and sensitivity.
"It's Nikki," said Belfour. "Look at him. He's so adorable."
"Dude," said Renberg. "We all know about you two. Really, it's no big deal.
I mean... the age difference is a little creepy, and I don't know what Don Cherry
would say, but you're with friends here. You don't have to worry about hiding
anything."
"You don't get it," said Belfour sullenly.
"What?" asked Renberg.
"I'm not gay," said Belfour. "I'm as straight as a ruler. I just enjoy...
experimentation. But Nikki is different. Nikki loves me, and I want to love
him, too. But I can't. I'm..." Belfour burst out sobbing. "I'm ashamed of my
heterosexuality," he wailed.
Renberg really couldn't think of an answer, so he made some soup, and hoped
everything would fix itself. Unfortunately, he had a sneaking suspicion that
the many problems facing the team were too big for a cup of instant soup to
solve...
=========================================
Chapter 16: in which they enter Warroad, you see what happens when a vegetarian
tries to write about a butcher shop, and Belak is abducted by aliens!!!!!!!!!!!
(i think that deserves every one of those eleven exclamation marks, don't you?)
With that rather unpleasant chapter out of the way (and I do apologize for it)
we return to our boys just outside Warroad. In fact, they had decided that it
was best to go to Warroad, and were currently just outside the town, and heading
in fast.
"Warroad, Warroad, Warroad, Warroad!!" yelled Antropov, running around the bus
excitedly. He bounced up to where McCabe was driving, "Drive faster, Cabe!!
We're going too slowly!"
"We're going 100 miles an hour, you communist idiot. You want to get out and
run?"
Antropov began to nod his head violently, giving him the appearance of a small,
dumb puppy. McCabe opened the door, and Antropov got out. Of course, McCabe
was expecting Antropov to fall behind the speeding bus, but he'd underestimated
the young Russian's excitement. Antropov raced off in front of the bus towards
Warroad. He ran through the town, not looking at anything, until he hit the
middle, the town square. There, he stopped, and looked around with wide eyes,
at the wonder that was Warroad. Then, maybe from the pure joy of the moment, or
his total exhaustion, he flopped down on the snow, content that he was lying in
Warroad, breathing the Warroad air, and looking up at the big blue Warroad sky.
Meanwhile, the rest of the guys drove into Warroad and were highly unimpressed.
They decided to split up. McCabe, Renberg, and Sundin wanted to go get
something to eat, and went to a quaint local diner. Proving that Antropov
didn't have complete control of his confused heart, Belfour headed to the quaint
local porn shop. Domi decided to visit the butcher shop, while Belak and
Mogilny headed off in their own mysterious directions.
Domi walked into the butcher's shop.
"What can I get you?" asked a kindly old butcher, with the nametag "Pete." His
hands were covered in blood from the slaughtering, stabbing, slicing, etc. he'd
been doing to slabs of various dead animals. Which, in retrospect, made him
look considerably less kindly.
"I don't know," said Domi. "What do you have to heal a broken heart."
"Here," said the butcher. "Have some beef jerky."
"Thanks," said Domi. He ate the beef jerky, which was utterly, utterly
disgusting, because I can't imagine beef jerky being anything but that.
Actually, he thought it tasted pretty good, it just WAS disgusting.
"So, you want some advice on that broken heart?" asked Pete.
"Sure," said Domi, as he tore off a bit of jerky with his back teeth. "Waddaya
got?"
"I've got a philosophy in life," said Pete. "It's damn good, too. I'm
thinking about writing a book. Here it is: just be glad you aren't the meat.
When I think being a butcher sucks, I just tell myself "be glad you aren't the
meat, Pete.""
Domi looked around at the various bloody entrails and other gross meaty stuff
around the shop. "Be glad you aren't the meat," he repeated to himself. He
smiled. "Thanks, Pete," he said, and skipped out of the shop.
Domi ran through the streets, screaming, "I AM PETE, MAN OF MEAT!" at the top
of his lungs. Never before had he felt so alive. He was freeeeeeeeeeeeee!!
Free from the pain, free from the worry, free from his reliance on that damn
loofa! He ran through the town square just as Antropov stood up, and ran into
him. They both fell down in the snow and began laughing and playing like small
children.
Belfour watched, his heart somewhere between despair and utter rage. He forced
himself to swallow it down, and went over to join them, just as Renberg, Sundin,
and McCabe came back from lunch.
"I wonder where Alex and Wade are," said McCabe.
"Alex is down at the rink," said Antropov, as he stood up, covered in snow.
"You mean... Comrade Alex?!" yelled McCabe. Antropov, not being very bright,
didn't really get it, but believe me... Renberg did.
"Let's go down and pick him up," said Sundin. "Wade's probably with him."
They all got in the bus and drove down to the local outdoor rink, where Mogilny
was skating alone. Wearing, McCabe noticed, his old Central Red Army jersey.
"Hey guys," said Mogilny, skating over. "Are we leaving?"
"As soon as we find Wade," said Belfour. "Have you seen him?"
"I told him to come back here and meet me when it was time to go, but I don't
know where he went."
"We'll just wait here for him," said Renberg. "He'll probably show up soon
enough."
But, for once, Renberg was horribly, horribly wrong!! They waited for hours,
and Belak never returned. Night fell, and they began to worry.
Finally, just past 2 a.m. Wade Belak appeared across the rink, suddenly,
somewhat illuminated. He walked over, and went up to the bus. He looked shaken
and even paler than usual, which was really, really creepy.
"What happened?" asked Sundin, as they all scrambled out of the bus to kick
Belak's ass.
"Um... I was abducted by aliens," said Belak. "Really. I was just walking
around, and they picked me up in their spaceship. They wanted me to go fight
some space war or something, I don't really know what that was about, so I
kicked all their asses and made them let me down."
"Wow," said Sundin.
"Hey," said Renberg. "You can talk again."
"Oh, yeah, I tried to tell you guys about that, but... you know," said Belak.
"When I go more than a few days without beating people up, my brain gets kinda
weird and I start talking all funny. I'm okay now."
"Oh."
"That really was quite an adventure," said Belak. "You should have seen me
beat up those aliens. It was pretty sweet."
"So… did you get probed?" asked Belfour.
"How far did those aliens take you?" asked Antropov.
"Jeebus Christ, you guys are worse than reporters," said Belak. "I'll tell you
all about it on the bus."
"Okay," said Sundin. "You feeling okay after all that alien fighting and
such?"
"Actually," said Belak. "I think I'm going to puke."
"Oh," said Renberg. "Hang on a second, okay?" Renberg ran into the bus and
fetched a hockey glove, and then ran back out.
"Here," he said, handing it to Belak.
"That is disgusting!" groaned Sundin. "I thought you were going to get a
bucket or something. A hockey glove? That's just nasty... whose is it?"
"Reichel's," replied Renberg smugly. "I brought it along just for this
purpose."
"You are a sick, sick man, Mikael Renberg," said Sundin.
During this conversation, Belak had been vomiting in Renberg's hockey glove.
He finished and put it down in the snow. Antropov threw the other one out the
window. Belak felt much better, and they drove on, determined to reach Colorado
by the next evening. As the bus rolled on in the early hours of the morning, a
young boy stepped on to the rink in hockeytown USA. It was a crisp, beautiful
winter morning. He was just ready to start practicing when he saw a pair of
sweet looking hockey gloves, just lying there in the snow. He could have been
one of the greatest players... one of the greatest names... in the most incredible
game on earth. But, needless to say, he never played hockey again. What's your
dream?
==========================================
Chapter 15: a brief and un-funny chapter to check up on all the unimportant
players
While the Warroad debate raged in song form and Renberg finished off the
instant chicken noodle, Green, Berg, Reichel, and Tucker's mission had been
derailed slightly by Shayne Corson's apparent death. If you recall, Tucker had
just said, "crap."
Everyone else was speechless, as they were joined by the rest of the team.
"Oh my god!" said McCauley. "You killed Corson!"
"That is really freaking inappropriate," said Tucker. "Jesus, my wife is
going to kick my ass!"
"Um... guys..." said Kaberle, checking Corson's pulse. "He isn't dead."
"Guys, this is really bad," said Green. "Our careers could all be over. So...
let's just pretend no one saw anything, okay?"
"Okay," said everyone.
"But he isn't dead!" exclaimed Kaberle. "He's got a pulse, he just isn't
breathing. Are you listening to me? He isn't dead, but he will be soon if we
don't call an ambulance!"
By this time, the rest of the team had walked away, leaving Kaberle alone with
Corson's near-corpse. Kaberle was torn between doing the right thing and not
being left alone to defend himself in New Jersey. He went running after the
rest of the team.
===========================================
Chapter 17: in which there is almost a Leafs dance party, Domi sings, and Belak
feels smug
It was early in the morning, and the guys, having just left Warroad, were
manically driving south, as the writer of this story is rather ignorant of US
geography. She apologizes. Anyway, Mogilny was driving, because Mogilny likes
driving at night, and everyone else was still up, unable to sleep due to all the
excitement in Warroad, which you probably just read about.
Domi was relishing his newfound freedom from the crutch of his loofa with a
long, glorious, and much needed shower. The rest of the guys were really
relieved, as they sat in the bus living room thing, listened with amusement to
Domi singing Can't Take My Eyes Off You very loudly, and with very little skill.
Feeling playful, Antropov jumped onto the couch beside Belfour.
"Dance with me, Eddie," said Antropov. Crap, thought Renberg, who was the only
one who knew that (in case you forgot) Ed wasn't really gay, nor was he in love
with Nik.
"Not here," said Belfour, looking around nervously.
"We don't mind," said Sundin. "There is no need to be ashamed of yourself
here. We'll dance, too, if it will make you feel more comfortable."
"Yea! Dance party!" squeaked Antropov, grabbing Belfour's hand.
"No!" said Belfour, pulling away. "Stay the fuck away from me, you fruit!"
Antropov clamped his hands over his ears and ran away crying. Of course, since
they were on a bus, he couldn't run far, so he was forced to run across the bus
many times, screaming every time he saw Belfour. At first, the guys were
amused.
"You know," said Sundin. "This is starting to get annoying. You really should
talk to him, Eddie. That wasn't nice."
"I know," said Belfour, close to tears himself, "I didn't mean for it to come
out like that. I would talk to him, but he won't stop moving."
"I can take care of that," said Belak. As Antropov ran by again, Belak stuck
out his arm, clotheslining the jilted lover. Antropov lay on the floor,
whimpering.
"NICE!!" said McCabe, jumping up as if Belak had just pummelled a guy on
another hockey team. "Kill the damn commie! Nice job, Wade." He hugged Belak,
who pushed him away, mildly afraid.
"What are you talking about?" asked Belak, confused.
"Nothing," replied McCabe. "Nothing at all. Goodnight." He went into the
bedroom and curled up under the bed.
"Okay..." said Sundin. "Alex, pull the bus over, okay. Eddie and Nik have to
talk some stuff over."
"No problem, comrade," said Mogilny. "We need to get gas anyway." The bus
pulled into a gas station, and everyone got out, except McCabe who was still
hiding under the bed, Belak, who was trying to coax him out, and Domi, who had
moved on to Billie Jean.
As the rest of the guys went to get coffee and fill up the bus, Belfour and
Antropov went off together. Antropov, who had recovered from that rather
stunning blow to the head, began to cry again. "Why don't you love me, Eddie?"
he asked plaintively.
While Belfour tried to think of an answer, crazy hijinx were ensuing inside the
bus. Belak was lying on the floor, trying to convince McCabe that Mogilny did
not have communist leanings when Domi came out of the shower.
"That was GREAT!" he said. "I feel so free! I don't need a loofa; my skin is
good enough without one."
Belak scoffed under his breath and stroked his own soft loofa-ed skin. "Good
work, Tie," he said aloud. "It isn't easy to kick an addiction like that. I'm
so proud of you."
Domi didn't say anything, and only looked at Belak, confused.
"What?" asked Belak.
"Why did you call me that?" asked Domi.
"Why did I call you what?"
"Why did you call me 'Tie?'"
"Because... it's your name?" asked Belak. He was no longer entirely sure that it
was his name, but couldn't understand how he would forget his own teammates'
name. Belak was very confused.
"Cabe," he whispered to Bryan McCabe, who was still under the bed. "Is Tie
really Tie's name?"
"Yes."
"Who are you talking to?" asked Domi. "Oh, wait... why did you call me Tie again?"
"It's your name!" said McCabe. "And I'm Bryan McCabe. I'm hiding under the
bed from that evil communist Alexander Mogilny."
"I see... But my name isn't Tie. My name is Pete, man of meat."
"No it isn't," said McCabe. "Your name is Tie Domi."
"My name is Pete, Man of Meat."
"Tie Domi!"
"Pete!"
"Tie!"
"Pete!"
"Pete!" said McCabe at the same time, in an effort to outsmart Tie/ Pete.
"Jinx," said Belak. No one said anything, because they couldn't. Among the
Leafs, jinx is sacred. Belak smiled smugly, happy at what he believed to be
definitive win.
Frustrated, McCabe crawled out from under the bed. He happened to look out the
window, and saw Mogilny, in front of a bonfire, sending smoke signals with his
large Central Red Army flag. This was it! The proof that Mogilny was a dirty
communist bastard! Unfortunately, McCabe was jinxed. He sat on the floor of
the bus, watching in terror and waiting for someone to un-jinx him.
Meanwhile, Belfour was trying to answer Antropov's rather difficult question
("Why don't you love me, Eddie?)
"Nik," said Belfour. "It's hard to explain. You see, I used to be a regular
straight guy, until one drunken night when... well, let's just say it involved
chains, whips, and me in stilettos. Ever since then, I've been into everything...
men, women, two on ones, four on ones, S&M, D&X, FoS-"
"Okay, okay... I am Russian; I do not know all these things. Just stop
stalling, and tell me why you don't love me."
"Point is," said Belfour. "I got into all this stuff, but it's just fun. I
always wanted a young Russian to be my bitch, but that's it. It isn't love,
okay? I'm sorry. You're cute and all, but I don't love you."
"That all I am to you?" demanded Antropov. "Your Russian Bitch?" Nik ran back
to the bus, leaving Eddie alone. He went into the coffee shop, just as the rest
of the guys were leaving.
"Did you take care of everything?" asked Renberg.
"Yeah," said Belfour. "He didn't take it too well."
"What can you expect? It's for the best in the long run," said Renberg.
"Yeah," said Belfour, putting his arm around Renberg. "Especially for us."
"Yes. Us and our secret relationship," said Renberg.
"That's sort of what I was implying."
"Oh."
"You guys," said Sundin, who had been filling up the bus. "We have a major
problem. Get on the bus."
Everyone (including Mogilny, who was done with his mysterious smoke signals)
got on the bus and sat down around Sundin.
"Guys," said Sundin. "Reichel's cards are all maxed. We are completely
broke."
"Holy crap!" said McCabe. Belak punched him in the arm really, really hard.
"Ow!" said Belak. "Will someone please un-jinx me?"
"Will... some..one.." Belak tried to count the words on his fingers to figure out
how many times McCabe deserved to be punched. "Is someone one word or two?"
"Wade..." said Sundin. "We have serious problems here. Bryan, Bryan, Bryan."
"Thanks, man. As I said, 'holy crap!'"
======================================
Chapter 18: too short for a title
Meanwhile, the rest of the team was taking a more direct route to Colorado, in
a better bus, following Colaiacovo, who was Avril Lavigne's new boyfriend. I am
sick of writing about all these boring people. So that's what they were doing.
The End.
===========================================
Chapter 19: In which Antropov and Belak shack up, Sundin gets a tan, and Mogilny
is a closet romantic
That night, really about 4 a.m., as the guys debated how to get some money, Nik
Antropov lay in Britney Spears' bed, crying.
"You guys," said Renberg. "Listen to him. Someone should go talk to him."
There was silence.
"I will," said Belak. "If someone will let me work on my tact a bit first."
"I think you'll be okay now," said McCabe. "You don't want to confuse the poor
bastard, and none of us want to let you kick our asses."
"Okay," said Belak. He went into Britney's room. "You okay, man?" he asked,
sitting down on the bed.
"He said I was just his Russian bitch," said Antropov, wiping his nose on his
sleeve. "He never really loved me."
"Aw.. poor Nikki," said Belak, putting his arm around Antropov. "It's okay.
You're too good for him anyway. I mean.. he's just an old meanie. You - you're
young and cute and Russian."
"But I love him," said Antropov, sobbing. That's what you think, thought
Belak. He was so scared of what he was about to say, but he knew he had to say
it.
"You know, Nikki," said Belak. "When I was in that spaceship, being taken
away, I was really scared. Like, super, super scared. I thought they were
going to take me away and eat me or kill me or probe me or something. But.. what
I was scared of most, more than anything else, was never seeing you again. Ever
since I first saw you, I thought you were so beautiful."
"Really?" asked Nik, all glowy and happy. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"Uh-huh. So... is that okay?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I'm going to go now," said Belak.
"Wait," said Antropov. "Can you just stay here tonight?"
"Aw..." said Mogilny, who was listening outside the door. He wiped away his
tears. The rest of the guys were trying to discuss how the hell they would get
to Colorado with no money.
"Jeebus," said Sundin. "Could you please stop spying on them?"
"No!" said McCabe. "He can't. Because he's a communist. And that's what
communists do. Spy. Yeah."
"Could you PLEASE STOP USING SENTENCE FRAGMENTS!" roared Renberg. "Sorry."
"Right," said Sundin. "Now, let's get back on topic. We've already ruled out
drug dealing, a lemonade stand, an impromptu charity concert, and selling Belak
to the mob as a hitman, although I don't think that's a bad idea. So... what's
left?"
"Well..." said Belfour, who had been silent for some time. "I do know of
something, but... I don't know."
"What?" asked Mogilny. "We want to hear all the suggestions, so we can make
the best possible decision for the group."
"Okay... Are we going to be driving through Des Moines, Tie?" Belfour asked the
driver.
Domi didn't respond.
Sundin sighed. "Are we going through Des Moines, Pete," he said.
"Yes, sir," said Domi/ Pete. "We should be there by tomorrow afternoon, and if
we aren't... just be glad you aren't the meat."
"Okay..." said Belfour. "Anyway, I happen to know of a club that pays pretty
well for dancers. With our hockey asses, it should be no problem."
"You want us to dance at a gay club?" asked Renberg. "I'd rather give the
lemonade stand a shot."
"I think it's a great idea," said Sundin. "I'm not gay or anything, but we
Swedes are very comfortable with our sexuality. I'm going to try out Britney's
tanning bed right away... I don't want to be all pasty tomorrow."
"I guess it's settled, then," said Mogilny. "On to Iowa!!"
As Sundin lay in the pop diva's ex tanning bed, Renberg struggled with the idea
of dancing in front of a large group of gay men, and Domi refused to answer to
any name but Pete, Belak and Antropov lay in Britney's bed and watched the sun
rise.
Belak leaned over, and whispered in Antropov's ear, "I'm happy."
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