OctaLoss: Episode 2


If you haven’t already, read Episode 1 here: http://toastdispatch.com/octaloss-episode-1/

EPISODE 2: The Smiting

As they approached the edge of the Great Forest of the North, The Vladiator and his merry men paused, knowing they needed a strong, confident leader, someone who could quickly adapt to ever changing situations; but, seeing none were available, they asked Friar Hitch to lead them instead.

“Friar!” Called out Sir Backes, “We request providence and your blessing, before we begin our battle with OctaLoss, and bring Lord Stanley’s Cup to Blues Kingdom.”

The men anxiously awaited Friar Hitch’s response, as he wiped the mutton grease off his chin with his sleeve, he bowed his head and prayed: “Oh, great Hockey Gods, let our skates be swift, our shooters sharp, and the bounces in our favor.” Hitch continued… “May we stay within our system, no matter how bleak it looks; praised be the ‘dump and chase’; grit, detirmination, buy in, back-check.  Amen.”

The men looked confused but undaunted by Hitch’s speech.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Hitch said, “could we get a Kentucky Fried Mutton in this forest? I’m starving!”

“Onward into the forest! To slay the beast!” Yelled The Vladiator.

As Tarasenko took his first steps into the forest, he was stopped by Sir Shattenkirk.

“We can’t enter yet!”

“Why not?”

“We need a scribe to record our great battles!”

“Quite right you are, is there a scribe among us?  Step forward!”

All the men stepped back until only one remained.

“Ah, are you a scribe sir? Introduce yourself.”

“I am Jeremy the Minstrel.” Replied Jeremy the Minstrel.

“Where do you hail from?”

“Arnold-a-lot, the land of the necks that are red!”

“And your credentials?”

“I once wrote sports articles for the Post-Dispatch.”

NEVER heard of it.”

“Well, I’m in the midst of some very promising interviews for a position at the Toast-Dispatch…”

“Ah, yes, I have heard of them.  Henceforth, you shall be known as, Rutherford the Scribe!”

Finally, they ventured off into the forest.  Hours later, they stopped to rest in a cave.

“There is a nice breeze in here, it is a bit damp though.” Said Goc, sitting down.

“What is this large blob back here?” Asked Friar Hitch.

Reaves excitedly got up. “It looks like a punching bag!  I’m gonna try it out!”

As Reaves whaled away on the “punching bag”, a deafening roar echoed throughout the cave.

“This is no cave!” Cried The Vladiator, “This is the pie hole of OctaLoss!”

The group quickly scurried out of the beast’s mouth, Goc however, was not fast enough, Ott looked on horrified, as OctaLoss devoured Goc.

“Oh my Gosh!  He got Goc!”

Hitch quietly scratched Goc off his roster.

OctaLoss flew around with great speed, looking for his next victim.

“Sir Schwartz! Sir Stastny! Prince Oshie!” Hitch barked, “Get out there!”

The trio looked mildly confused as too why the Friar would pair the three of them together, when all year they had been with different partners, but digressed, and charged towards the beast.

OctaLoss swept them aside with ease, and charged towards the group.

“Impossible!” Cried Hitch, “Who would have thought changing the men’s pairings would have any effect on their performance!”


The men, back on their heels, ran from the forest, stopping only to occasionally launch a shot into the beast’s shins.

To be continued.




About the Author

Lumpy Rutherford
Lumpy Rutherford is the head writer for the Toast Dispatch. His favorite topics are St. Louis Post-Dispatch writer Jeremy Rutherford and former Blues goalie Jaroslav Halak.