Mickey: Alright, kid. Welcome to the locker room.

Joey: Thanks.

Mickey: Since today’s your first day, I’ll show you around this joint and tell you about each player’s special needs.

*ROWWWRRR*

Joey: What’s that?

Mickey: Nothing.

This is Hasek’s locker. The full length mirror needs constant cleaning. Dominik really loves himself. Stares at his reflection for hours on end. I recommend wearing gloves to clean it.

Joey: Lovely.

*MWHARRR*

What the hell is that noise?

Mickey: Some bad pipes. Here’s Holmstrom’s carbonite containment unit …

*ROOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Joey: Those aren’t pipes, Mick.

Mickey: I didn’t want to show you too early, but the fourth-liners are hungrier than usual. This way.

The Red Wings have a unique way of getting the most out of their players. Brilliant, actually.

Joey: What’s that?

Maltby: ROWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Draper: GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Mickey: Treat them as animals.

Joey: Oh my god! Holy fucking shit!

*Mickey whacks the sack with a stick*

Maltby: GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!

Mickey: Shut up, grinders! You get food if you quiet down! Joey, hand me that octopus over there.

Joey: That reeks. How long has this been here?

Mickey: Since the game ended. Only the freshest food for the grinders. Use the stick to pick it up. I’m gonna loosen the bag’s top for a second, Joey, only a second! If they see light longer than that, they’ll push us into the corner and we’ll be done for! You ready?

Joey: Ugh, yes!

Mickey: On three! ONE, TWO, THREE!!

*Mickey opens the sack, Joey drops the octopus inside*

Draper: NAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Maltby: GWAAAAAHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!

*Mickey reties the sack*

Mickey: That’ll keep ‘em fed for a few days. Can’t have them getting fat and wanting more food. Okay, two guys in the bag, where’s the third?

Joey: Third?

*Dan Cleary jumps out of the shadows and smashes Joey against the wall*

Cleary: I, I, I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!!! I WAS A FIRST ROUND PICK!!

Joey: GAHHHHHH!!!! Get this thing offa me!!!

Mickey: Bad grinder! BAD GRINDER!!

*Mickey hits Cleary with the stick five times. Cleary collapses.*

Dipshit still thinks he’s in Chicago. You OK, kid?

Joey: I’m gonna teach that fucker a lesson! Oh look, he crapped in the corner. Let’s see if he likes his own shit!

*Joey grabs Cleary by the hair and drags him to the corner*

Mickey: NO! Stop!

Joey: Enjoy, bitch!

*Joey smashes Cleary’s face into the shit. Cleary laughs.*

Mickey: That’s not punishment! That’s a reward! Just tell him that he’s not going on the PK!

Joey: Uh, you’re not going on the PK!

Cleary: AWWWWWWW … I, I, AUGHHHHHH!!!

Mickey: Those Blackhawks assholes built this guy up. We’re still in the demolition process. A few more years and we’ll throw him in the sack. He’s not ready for the burlap sack yet.

Anyway, where were we on the tour?

This is Osgood’s booster seat …