Desperate Quebec City officials offer Bettman one night of unbridled passion with Bonhomme

QUEBEC CITY – Officials in Quebec City have decided to up the ante in their pursuit for a return of pro-hockey to their community by proffering NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman an “affectionate and saucy” evening with Carnaval mascot Bonhomme.

Aspiring franchisee Pierre Karl Péladeau articulated the objectives of the proposal. “We thought we met all of the criteria, an excited fanbase, a modern arena, and a right-wing conservative owner, but apparently that’s not enough. So we decided, if we’re going to land a franchise, we’ve got to think outside the box”.

Péladeau continued “Finally it hit us. We weren’t playing to our strengths! Yes, we Quebecois are great at hockey, but our on-ice talents pale in comparison to our skills in the art of seduction!”

“From there, our path was clear: give us a team, Monsieur Bettman, and, in return, we’ll grant you one magical night of no-holds-barred, anything-goes eroticism with our beloved snowman ambassador”.

While Péladeau conceded that the famed Winter Carnival figurehead might not seem like an ideal romantic tryst, he promised a perfect blend of hockey and sensuality. The Quebecor Inc CEO entreated the commissioner to imagine what his “not-so-decent proposal” might look like.

“Picture it, Gary”, he began. “Like Connor McDavid, you gracefully glide into a room of our famed Ice Hotel. You take a moment to adjust to the dim light, when you notice a figure in a chair in the corner. Taking in his smooth visage, you see it, the broad, toothless smile, not unlike a young Bobby Clarke. But the eyes? Dark, impenetrable, like they’re hiding something”.

Péladeau paused before continuing “He rises from his seat, when you see it. His belt, hanging down on one side like Wayne Gretzky’s sweater. But… he’s not wearing pants? What is its purpose then? It becomes clear, when he removes it, tying a tight, but gentle, knot around your wrists. The rest stays between those four walls, mon cher commissaire. Your paramour cannot speak, so have no fear of him sharing details with Spittin’ Chichlets”.

The ownership-hopeful concluded by reiterating that such a marriage of the frozen-game and the game-of-love is La Vieille Capitale in a nutshell.

“Remember the 80s and 90s? First you’d tune in to TQS to watch the Nordiques play, and then you’d leave the TV for Bleu Nuit. We’ll even put a sign on the door that says ‘Do not disturb. Watching the Canucks game’.”

Beaverton