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We've all had some fun with this preposterous IVAIITFY** tournament, but I fear there are some storm clouds forming on the horizon. Sure, Montreal is in the clear and THE CANNON is a feel good story, but you should share my concerns that some evil may punch through at the expense of good taste.
Of course we are here only to slowly - dare I say seductively? - bathe in the schadenfreude of others, so perhaps the gods are just waiting to deliver their brand of gut-wrenching hell when emotions are higher (you know, like a lose-game-seven-and-try-and-burn-your-own-city-down-type hurt). We can only hope.
Here goes:
- 5:00 PM PT - The bespoked "B" against a tire fire. Normally a sane human would pull for option 3 in this case (the big, destructive meteor) but I think we can all agree this should go seven games and give Boston all the chances they need to show their true groin-spearing face to the world. So may the tire fire burn bright. We'll bring S'mores.
- 6:30 PM PT - The kids against the Cooke-less. Again, option 3 feels tempting, but no, the Cooke-less need to be shown that gooning it up against pre-schoolers isn't an actual strategy. In the real world that would get you killed. So, swallow the bile long enough to wish the avalanched "A" much success against the severed green head of the random, woodland creature.
- 7:30 PM PT - A wood-eating Selachimorpha against the symbol of a laughably dated autocratic form of governance. Option 3 is, again, the right choice. However, so is watching the best goalie in the world and his primordial ooze cohorts dive and whine their way to a futile first round sweep at home. Then again, the Sharks riding high on confidence will cause yours truly to slowly go batshit thanks to the morons he's surrounded by and - spoiler alert - if YC goes down, he's taking all of you with him. So since we're already all losers here, just give us as much heartbreak as possible. We won't discriminate.
** "If Vancouver Ain't In It Then Fuck You"