So, I’ve been receiving many inquiries about when the rest of the Beantown story is going to appear. It’s been a grinding process, and the last update was quite some time ago. Believe me, I want it over and done with as much as you do. There are some very dangerous and disturbing memories lurking there that I’d rather just lock away and forget about.
Alas, my friends, I have some bad news for you. It would appear that the remaining chapters of Beantown may never see the light of day. There have been some ugly scenes taking place in the offices of some of Boston’s most highly respected lawyers. The Bruin’s Corpo Militia, a.k.a. lawyers, has been making things very difficult for me. Numerous cease and desist orders have been delivered, but you know me. I’m not one to let some vague legal rantings silence the voice of reason. However, things have gotten serious now. Mysterious black vehicles following me everywhere. Shadowy figures crawling among the sagebrush. Helicopters hovering in the distance. My best alpaca stud killed and mutilated in grisly fashion. It’s getting to be too much. Every man has his limit, and mine has been reached. I will retreat, for now.
Ken, my friend, we have lost the battle, but in some small way, I feel we have won the war. We rattled their cages. We shook them up a bit. I’d like to think that we made them realize that hockey is about the game, not the bottom line. I know, I’m giving them too much credit, but I’m just an old softy after all. We stormed the fortress Ken, and I think we shocked ourselves more than anyone with how far we made it. We were so close. I honestly believe that if it hadn’t been for that young marketing intern we might have actually achieved our goal. I don’t begrudge you your loss of vision in that moment Ken. She was hot. I’m talking Dynamite! The sounds coming from that janitorial closet would have made a seasoned porn star blush. Make love, not war, eh Ken? Ah well, it was really your fight from the beginning. I was just along for the rush.
To my readers, I regret that the story cannot be finished here at this time. Just understand that sometimes a man has to know when it’s time to lay low and lick his wounds. Choose your battles, as they say. A bulbous tumor of corporate stupidity was forced to change its tactics, and I’d like to think that I played some small part in that.
To the Bruins organization, I say “peace”. I’m waiving the white flag. Our goal was achieved, whether you realize it or not. So call off your dogs, for their own good. I have a brand-new AK-47 that is just itching for some target practice.
