We were born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. Thus, l’affair Tranny Bride.
Oh, Gentle Reader, it’s been such a topsy-turvy Spring for us. There are two givens in the life of a Devils fan: the Rangers are vile and the Flyers are vile. The viler of the two varies with the ebbing and flowing of the NHL tides, but the fact that the vileness of both remains constant. So what could possibly possess us during these playoffs to make it so, at this late a date, we can honestly say our favorite non-Devils team of this post season was Philadelphia? Clearly, the only explanation is that we are too quick to laugh (at ourselves) and the world has gone completely mad. But the time for merriment and mirth has passed — it is with a twinkle in our eyes but bile in our throats that we are wiping off our orange face paint and writing an open letter to the Philadelphia Flyers:
It was a wonderful run, Flyers. When the matchups were set in April and you drew the Caps, we knew a marriage of convenience would follow. But it was like some crazy screwball Hollywood comedy, where the opposites who have become surprise spouses discover through madcap adventures that they truly do love each other. You were a Vegas tranny bride, to be sure, but while the playoffs kept us sloppy drunk, you remained one smokin’ hot Vegas tranny bride. You beat the strangely hatable Caps in a thrilling seven games, then mopped the ice with a surprisingly unappealing Habs, and with every passing day we were further convinced that our Vegas tranny marriage would be the one that beats the odds.
Alas, we couldn’t run far enough or fast enough to outrace your true identity. Under all that foxy Vegas tranny get-up, you’re still the Flyers. And you still suck. (Seriously, Biron? Really? Her?) We wanted you to beat the Pens, and we wanted this wild ride of ours to last forever, but it wasn’t meant to be. It shouldn’t be. We’re Devils fans. You’re the Flyers . Our illicit love was a fun way to pass a few weeks, but it’s over. So, um… please stop calling us, okay? And let’s just pretend this never happened.