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Sometime in the not-too-distant future, four men sit in a little room. At stake, the fate of Western Civilization as we know it. Or the sacred underpinnings of the free market. Or the traditional economic freedom borne of rugged individualism. Or one man's enormous ego. It's one of those things. I think. It depends on who you ask, really. Anyway, let's listen in, shall we?
Mediator: Good morning gentlemen. As you know, you are all here today by virtue of Judge Redfield T. Baum's mediation order. Before the Judge can proceed with the bankruptcy proceedings surrounding the...uh...*flips through papers on desk*...the Phoenix Coyotes, which I'm given to understand is a professional ice hoc-key team, is that right Mr. Bettman? Yes. A hockey team. Before the Judge can proceed, he needs to ascertain who, exactly controls this team, a task th--
Moyes: It's me! I'm the owner!
Bettman: Is not! The NHL controls the team!
Moyes: Is so!
Bettman: Nuh-UHHH!
Moyes: Stupid head!
Bettman: I know you are, but what am I??
Mediator: Gentlemen, please! A little decorum, I beg of you. You'll be given ample opportunity to make your respective cases. Ahem...Now then. Mister...Balsillie, is it? It is my understanding that you have a vested interest in seeing Mister Moyes here emerge as the favoured party in this mediation. That is all well and good, but I must stress that you are here strictly as a courtesy sir, and as such, I'd very much appreciate it if you could put down the scythe. Thank you. The cowl is a nice touch. That can stay.
Now then, to business. Mister Moyes, please tell me why you should be considered the controlling interest in this business concern?
Moyes: The bad man tricked me.
Mediator: I'm sorry?
Moyes: Him. The bad man. He tricked me.
Bettman: Oh, AS IF!
Mediator: You'll have your opportunity for rebuttal, Mister Bettman. Please continue Mister Moyes.
Moyes: It was last November. I was in my playroom, hiding under my desk as usual. The phones! Oh. My. GAWD! The phones were ringing all the time! Everybody wanted money! The city of Glendale...the banks...collection agencies...hookers...some guy named Wayne. Oooh...he was a scary dude. Kept talking about sending his buddy Dave to come see me. It was awful! I was going crazy! And then Gary came running in with an arm full of paper. He said he'd make everything go away! Everything would go back to the way it was! The team would stay...nobody would go to the games...my youngest daughter could still send naughty pictures of herself to that nice Shane Doan...and I could still get people to give me money!
Mediator: Now when you say "give me money", you're really talking about loans leveraged against the perceived value of the team, are you not?
Moyes: Well, DUH! Nobody said "loans" at the time. I just thought they liked me.
Mediator: I...see. Then what happened?
Moyes: Gary said if I just signed one more piece of paper, everything would be fine! Just one more, that's all he was asking. I didn't know what to do. It was so full of big words! All of my lawyers had quit the day before. Who knew they don't like being paid with goats? Greedy bastards. So, anyway, I just signed.
Mediator: Mister Moyes, at any time, did Mister Bettman inform you that by signing that particular piece of paper, you were in effect ceding control of the Phoenix Coyotes to the National Hockey League?
Moyes: NO! UH-UH! I told you...the bad man tricked me!
Bettman: Oh...COME ON! You signed the goddamned cont--
Mediator: Mister Bettman! I won't warn you again. Now SIT! Thank you. Er...actually, please remain standing. Otherwise, I can't see you over the desk. Ahem...Now then, Mister Bettman, please state your case as to why the court should consider the National Hockey League in full and rightful control of the Phoenix Coyotes franchise?
Bettman: Because of...THIS! *triumphantly slaps down piece of paper on mediator's desk*
Mediator, donning reading glasses: Mmm-hmmm. Yes. I see. This is a deed transfer, is it not?
Bettman: Yep!
Mediator: Signed by Mister Moyes?
Bettman: Oh, hell yeah!
Mediator: Mmm-hmmm. And yet, I can't help but notice that some of the original wording has been altered.
Bettman: Well, uh, yes. But--
Mediator: Specifically, where the text originally read "Winnipeg Jets", someone has crossed out "Winnipeg Jets" and superimposed "Phoenix Coyotes".
Bettman: Well, we wanted to save on the prin--
Mediator: In crayon.
Bettman: Er...um...as I said why kill more trees than you have to, eh? Heh-heh...
Mediator: And you spelled "Phoenix" with a "9".
Bettman: *blinks*
Mediator: I think I see what's going on here. Mister Balsillie, you've hardly said a word. Is there anything else you'd like to add before I render my decision?
Balsillie: *silently pulls giant novelty cheque from beneath cloak*
Mediator: Oh...*cough*...oh my. Two hundred and twelve million, five hundred thousand dollars. Yes. Well. That, er, really isn't...uh...relevant to these..um...proceedings. Anything else?
Balsillie: *tosses envelope onto desk, eyes glowing red beneath cowl* Free. 4G. Blackberry. For life.
Mediator: We find in favour of Mister Moyes. Case closed!
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