In these troubled times many of us turn to religion in our confusion and pain. As a personal service to all of you I have created this handy cut-out-and-keep entreaty to Forces Beyond Our Ken.. just fill in the blanks and you're good to go..

Dear (insert Deity of choice here). It's me (insert you).

I am Your Humble Servant. I have (kept Your Commandments/observed Your Rituals/Sacrificed the Required Number Of Virgins*)

I have asked You for little during this time (though nice job on the Scum, thanks!)

But now, (Supreme Being/Nyarlathotep The Devourer Of Worlds/Space Aliens) a Great Darkness has seized Hockeyland. As it was written in (Holy Text/The Necronomicon/Issue#27 of Barely Legal Teens) the Dead have Risen    Strange Mutations Abound and Kevin Freaking Bieksa scores a Gordie Hat Trick. Surely these are End Times.

This has gone far enough, O (Great One, Dark Lord, Jeff.. can I call you Jeff?). These Vancouver Canucks are an Abomination in Your (eyes/tentacles/ass). They blaspheme against all that is good and decent in Hockeyland, what with their Deviant Ways, Bizarre Belief Systems, and their Raising Of A False Idol. That last one must really stick in Your (Craw/Bottomless Compassion/Endless Darkness Of A Thousand Crushed Suns)

Now, I'm not asking much. There is no need to rain sulphur on the Rogers Arena, cast the Firstdrafted of the 'Nucks into Eternal Night (ie traded to Edmonton) or make BC break off and eventually submerge in the ocean.. or, even worse, cause a Pot Drought**.

No, O (benevolent/malevolent/ambivalent) One, please, please pretty please with sugar on top please let the Sharks get their Smite on and spare us the Ultimate Evil

Make Nemo the Shield and Marleau the Sword that casts the Wicked down.

After Game Seven you freaking owe us!

Thank You.

(Your name here, get a friend to help if the tears make it hard to write)

* Insert your own joke about Virgin+Detroit=Difficulty In Obtaining

** But if You feel like, say, dropping a Grand Piano on Bieksa we'll chuckle..