The Best Way To Describe How I Feel

Oh, Mo, I know. While Russian's craftily put up an impersonator behind him both to block Norstrom and to ward off the flocks who cry, "A Norris for you! A NORRIS FOR YOU!", you have recognized our worst fears. San Jose has nearly inevitably clinched the division. We had an awesome February, followed up by a depressing March. As we can see back there, Turco's smushed flat. And you, my friend, lay face down on the ice, a sad little figure wallowing in despair at our situation, too tired to even unclench the stick from your plastic, molded hands. I know you want the Stanley Cup one more time, but trying to inhale a fake, plastic ice sheet isn't going to help matters any, Mike. Or maybe you can't get up because your head's so heavy, you can't prop yourself up anymore. Either way, it's a sad, sad state of affairs.

It Could've Happened This Way. Promise

Setting: A hospital room, somewhere in Dallas, with a recuperating patient recently released from surgery. A doctor and nurse are in the room, discussing the surgery in question with the patient.

Doctor: So then, we inserted the screw into this bone here (:points to x-ray) and sewed you back up. You'll be able to go home in about two or three days, and you'll need to keep weight off of it for at least three weeks.

Russian: A screw? You inserted a screw into my foot? This is not what I asked for at all! And where is my alligator?

Nurse: (horrified) What? We don't allow alligators into hospitals, sir!

Doctor: What request are you talking about exactly, Mr. Zubov?

Russian: I told you, just chop the stupid foot off and put a replacement foot on there. (exasperated) Seriously, this is not that difficult. I sent you a memo through the head nurse, and I also specifically requested that my alligator be allowed to come stay with me during my time here. He is leash-trained and everything! I am highly disappointed, doctor.

Doctor: Sir, we can't just put a replacement foot on there. I'm not sure anyone is currently performing...foot transplants. Also, I have no idea where you'd find a "replacement foot".

Russian: Hmph. I'm sure any foot in my size would have done just fine, unless you had gone to Sweden and chopped off Peter Forsberg's.

Nurse: Who?

Russian: Shouldn't you be doing something useful? Like finding my alligator?

Doctor: Mr. Zubov, it's not like feet are growing on trees around here. Plus, you will do just fine as long as you give it the requisite time to heal. You won't be able to skate for a month or so, but you should be mobile and healthy after that!

Russian: Outrageous! This is ridiculous! What is the point of a capitalist society if you can't demand something like this and get it, especially for what I paid you for a simple screw! I could've done that on my own with a bottle of vodka and a Black and Decker drill! Where is that Niskanen kid when I need him? He would've given me one of his feet! And damn it, where is my alligator?

Nurse: We are not bringing an alligator in here, sir. It's unsanitary.

Russian: Oh, don't worry. He doesn't eat nurses. Just cameramen.

Doctor: Nurse, page Dr. Smith. We're going to need a psych evaluation...stat.