Dean Lombardi Talks With Scott Howson…

February 21. 10:30pm. The phone on Dean Lombardi’s desk rings. A hand reaches up and slaps it until the speaker button is pressed.

Dean: “What!?”

Secretary: “Mr. Lombardi?”

Dean: “Yeeeees…”

Secretary: “Um. Sir. I have a Mr. Scott Howson on the phone.”

Dean: “Who?”

Secretary: “Scott Howson, sir…I believe he is the GM of the Blue Jackets.”

Dean: …

Secretary: “…the Columbus Blue Jackets…Rick Nash, sir.”

Dean: “Oh! Oh! Rrrrrrick Nash. Yeah! What about him?”

Secretary: “He is on the phone, sir.”

Dean’s head pops up above his desk. He sets the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels within reach. “Rick Nash is on the phone? Holy shit, he wants to come here! I am going to get Rick Nash! Ah ha ha ha, suck it Elliott! Put him through!”

Secretary: “Sir, it’s not Rick Nash on the phone, it’s Scott Howson.”

Dean [stumbles into his chair]: “What!? Why did you tell me Rick Nash is on the phone you sadistic bitch?”

Secretary: “I didn’t sir.”

Dean: “Shut up! Stop talking! I have to think…”

Secretary: “Would you like me to take a message?”

Dean: “No, no. This may be important…who is it again? Nevermind, nevermind, I got it. Put him through.”

[Call transfers]

Dean: [clears throat] “Hello.”

Howson: “Jesus, about time. What are you doing? Getting a blow job?”

Dean: [checks under his desk] “No. What’s up Scotty? Like what you saw with Jack?…”

Howson: “Johnson?”

Dean: “Johnson! Jack mother fucking Johnson. You ready to give me Nash and Carter straight up for him right? Right? Hello?”

Howson: “Yeah. The momentum changing penalty in the second period and missing the net on the pivotal shootout chance gave me goosebumps. I will give you a conditional seventh for him.”

Dean: “Conditioned on what?”

Howson: “That was a joke.”

Dean: “Oh…so, what’s up Scotty? Like what you saw with Jack?”

Howson: “You already asked that. Look, Dean, my scouts watched the game and so did I. Loktionov sucks. Johnson sucks. I don’t think we’re going to be able to do this.”

[faint weeping]

Howson: “Dean?”

Dean: [wailing]

Howson: “Holy shit man, are you okay? Are you crying?”

Dean: “No…no, I’m not crying” [wipes the tears with his sleeves] “Just a little sad that you don’t want to trade Rick Nash to me, that’s all.”

Howson: “Look man, Nash is a superstar. I can’t trade him for an unproven goalie, a defenseman who doesn’t play defense and a center who has three goals. You gotta give me more.”

Dean: “Okay. Okay, I can do that…I can give you…Kopitar.”

Howson: “Anze?”

Dean: “Gasper.”

Howson: “Who?”

Dean: “Wait, wait, I got it. Matt Moulson. What do you say? He’s damn good, scores goals.”

Howson: “He plays for the Islanders.”

Dean: “What? Oh yeah, FUCK! Wait, wait, let me think. I got it. I got it Scotty boy! Drew Freaking Doughty.”

Howson: “You’d trade me Drew Doughty for Rick Nash?”

Dean: “Fuck yeah, I would. I hate that son of a bitch and his agent too. Hold out on me, I will send your ass to the hockey hell that is Columbus! Bam!”

Howson: “That’s not funny.”

Dean: “Sorry Rick.”

Howson: “Scott.”

Dean: “Right. So, what do you say? Doughty for Nash. A blockbuster. That ought to shut Elliott up, what could she write after that?”

Howson: “Your obituary. But hey, if you’re serious, I can take this to the ownership and see if they bite. What are you paying him?”

Dean: “Seven undeserved fucking million a season for eight looong seasons.”

Howson: “You’re not doing a very good job selling this to me, Dean.”

Dean: “Stupidity sells itself Scotty boy. If you worked for Leiweke and Anschutz, you would already know that.”

Howson: “Okay, I’ll get back to you.”

Dean: “NO! Wait!! I want Carter too.”

Howson: “For what?”

Dean: “What do you mean for what? For Doughty.”

Howson: “Carter and Nash for Doughty? You have to throw in more than that.”

Dean: “How about Kopitar?”

Howson: “Gasper?”

Dean: “Fuck! How did you know I meant that?”

Howson: “Jesus, are you drunk?”

Dean: “No! No. No” [blows a kiss at the bottle of Jack] “Maybe.”

Howson: “I can’t do this until you’re sober. I need to know you’re serious about Doughty for Nash.”

Dean: “Hey! I am dead fucking serious, okay? This is a good trade. You get an overpaid, overhyped, prima donna represented by Don Meehan, good luck in eight years by the way when Drew’s contract expires assuming Columbus still has a team and you’re not a scout in the ECHL or some shit, and I get…Rick come to papa Nash…”

Howson: “Yeah, anyway, call me tomorrow and we’ll talk, if you still remember this conversation.”

Dean: “Wait, wait, wait. I got it. I got it, I got it!…I will trade you Doughty, Johnson, Mitchell, Scuderi, Greene, Martinez, Quick, Bernier…”

Howson: “Dean…”

Dean: “Kopitar, Brown, Williams, Richards…”

Howson: “Uh. Dean?”

Dean: “Stoll, Clifford, Loktionov…”

Howson: “Hello? You want to trade me your whole team? Are you fucking crazy?”

Dean: “Yes! No. It all makes sense now. We will trade teams. It’s a fresh start, don’t you see? You will get the disaster I built from the back end out without offense and I will get that abortion of a hockey team you have. It’s like a second chance for us both. Oh, Leiweke is going to LOVE this. What’s your payroll?”

Howson: “About sixty two million.”

Dean: “WHAT? Are you fucking serious? You are paying…you have a payroll of sixty two million and you are at the bottom of the league? And Leiweke calls me an idiot? Man, you are like Penner sized stupid. How are you still employed you dumb shit?”

Howson: “Hey, I don’t have to take this from you. This conversation is over.”

Dean: “Bernier, Johnson and a first for Carter.”

Howson: “Done.”

Dean: “I’ll send you the papers tomorrow morning.”

Howson: “Deal.”

[hangs up]

Dean sits back in his chair with a smile that slowly turns to horror and the realization…”oh my God! What the fuck have I done? Damn you Bobby Scribe! Damn you for making me insane!!”

Categories: L.A. Kings News, Surly & Scribe Skits

Tags: , , , ,

5 replies

  1. It’s funny, but no reason to bash Loktionov, who has been playing great recently. So has Doughty.

    • Yeah. Doughty and Loktionov account for 50% of our goals in the last three games!!!!!!

      That’s not actually a joke. That’s a real statistic. *vomits*

  2. “Man, you are like Penner sized stupid.”

    I am in fucking tears with that line. BRAVO!!

  3. I get it, but this was lame…

  4. “You will get the disaster I built from the back end out without offense and I will get that abortion of a hockey team you have.”

    Best single sentence on this site ever. Period!


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