Canucks PR: John will only be doing a short scrum tonight instead of going to the press conference room, just come with me and meet him outside the home dressing room.
Canucks PR: And here's John, he'll take a couple questions now.
Jason Botchford: You told me before the game that if Roberto Luongo couldn't beat his season high of a .913 save percentage in a single game tonight that you were going to gut him, so can we assume that was hyperbole?
Torts: Jason, I told you that off the record. It's really weird that you would reveal that, and kind of unethical.
Jason Botchford: Pretty sure that was on the record.
Torts: It wasn't, but I'm the new, calm Tortorella, so I'll forgive you.
Harrison Mooney: Carey Price really seemed to be the difference tonight, would you say that's accurate?
Torts: Probably, yeah... Do you have press credentials?
Harrison Mooney: I... don't know. I work for Puck Daddy, does that count as media?
Torts: How could you not know? How'd you get in here if you don't know?
Harrison Mooney: Because I'm Harrison Mooney and I can do anything. Seriously, anything.
Torts: Whatever, moving on.
*Heavy breathing in the back of the scrum is heard, as a man arrives with baggage tags on a duffel bag, out of which he pulls a mic with a NY Post label*
Torts: Oh for f*** sakes....
Larry Brooks: You didn't think I would miss this, did you? Dan Hamhuis showed some soft hands in the goal he set up today, was that a set play?
Torts: Hamhuis didn't set up a goal tonig... you mean the own goal? Brooksie... No, I'm calm. Next question.
Larry Brooks: Maybe Luongo was just trying to block the shot, like you relentlessly preach?
Torts: Why are you still here? Where is security?
*A phone starts ringing with the ring tone being the chorus of Empire State of Mind by Jay Z and Alicia Keys*
Torts: I'm guessing that's you, Brooksie?
Larry Brooks: Yeah, sorry, hold on... It's actually for you, John.
James Duthie: It's only a matter of time Tortsie! The Quiz is callin'! Tick, tick, tick...
*Tortorella's eyes go blank, a deranged smile crosses his lips. He drops the phone in his hand, which smashes on the ground. He walks backwards into the Canucks dressing room. For what seems like ages, the scrum stares at the empty doorway, until 30 seconds later they hear cackling laughter. Tortorella comes out of the dressing room completely naked with axe in hand*
Torts: I'm the new calm Tortorella, nothing is wrong. I'm the new calm Tortorella, nothing is wrong. I'm the new calm Tortorella, nothing is wrong. I'm the new calm Tortorella, nothing is wrong. I'm the new calm Tortorella, nothing is wrong. I'm the new calm Tortorella, nothing is wrong. I'm the new calm Tortorella, nothing is wrong.
The rest of the transcript has been redacted.
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