Two men drive to the NHL Draft. The driver, tall, lithe and strong, is RUDY, a 25 year-old man of grace and eloquence. The passenger, short, hunchbacked and with a tiny dick, is RUDY'S BROTHER. They discuss the upcoming free agency period.
Seriously, really tiny. Like a plantain.
Rudy: Do you think the Kings will actually get Kovalchuk?
Rudy's brother: No, shit never works out for us. He'll probably sign with Anaheim along with Volchenkov and Fro and we'll both kill ourselves.
Rudy: Yeah, probably.
Rudy's brother: ...Have you had a dream that Kovalchuk was on the Kings?
Rudy: Yeah. A couple times.
Rudy's brother: I had one that I was watching a game and Kovalchuk sniped one coming down the wing and I could see my own face, like I was watching myself in a movie, and I jumped up into the air, screaming, "Ilya!" at the top of my lungs, and then I pumped my fist and I could see my eyes welling with tears and I was happy, so happy... and then I woke up. What was yours?
Rudy: Kovalchuk finished a game and was showering and then I walked in an-
*thrown out of car