The scene: it’s a cold, wintry night at stately IPB Manor. All the stockings have been hung by the chimney with care, and sugarplums are dancing about and whatnot, and the Ookies gigglingly open the next window in the big December calendar of Devils. Inside is…
Tedenby, sadly: I wish you guys would leave me out of this. I feel like I should deserve better.
The Ookies: You’re right, little crack-addled hummingbird. You do deserve better than to be stuck trying to drag the sorry, bloated carcass of this team around with you. You’re supposed to be our bright, adorable, wings-flapping-too-fast-to-see-with-the-naked-eye future!
Tedenby, moping: Seriously. But instead I have to go to work every day and spend time having my mind poisoned by Jamie Langenbrunner. He thinks hummingbirds shouldn’t flap their wings. Or eat candy.
The Ookies: Don’t worry. We hate that guy. We won’t hold it against you.
The Ookies gently close the window again on Tedenby, then give the window a little kiss and do the happy little miniature giraffe dance.