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A Man for the Ages
written by ryank_119 on Feb 01 2017

I love Hornqvist, you love Hornqvist, Crosby loves Hornqvist (sometimes) and even this adorable dog loves Hornqvist. But even the most dedicated Patric fans in the world don’t know the truth behind the man with the baby-blue eyes. Tread carefully, dear reader, your mind is about to be blown. Blown like Lundqvist’s mind whenever Horny backs into his crease.


I know you don’t believe it, but trust me… I’ve done the research. The facts don’t lie. He’s been walking the earth for thousands of years and will be for all eternity. Well, at least until the earth melts into the sun and he is relegating to drifting through the blackness of space.
There is ample evidence to support the existence of Hornqvist as far back as the Viking Age. Ancient writings state (probably, I can’t read ancient writings) that a man of great stature and even greater lungs ruled a region in Iceland they called (again, I can’t read ancient writings) Mount Hornqvist. I’m sure they pronounced it something weird like “Herrn-qweeest” or whatever. Who cares right?

Anyways, the legendary viking made quite the name for himself by ravaging the surrounding coastal villages in the most peculiar way. He would routinely back his warship into the channel, slow and methodical-like. Then, without warning, hundreds of naked and screaming men would pour out of the ship into the crowds of horrified onlookers.
I won’t go into detail about what happened next (mainly because I have no skill or experience in deciphering ancient manuscripts) but believe me when I say the nudity alone was enough to absolutely decimate the will of any village person. Don’t even get me started with all the rape and pillaging. No, stop asking.

Jump ahead several hundred years. Right to World frickin’ War One. The image above is that of the Horny Badgers Regiment. These men became famous during the Great War for their utter lack of fear and better judgment. Commander Hornqvist (prior to volunteering for duty he owned and operated his own cologne manufacturing plant) developed the theory “more clothing more dead.”
His regiment would casually stroll to the front lines wearing little more than kilts fashioned from the hides of black bears they would come across on their long hike towards certain death. Certain death for mere humans that is. Patric and his men came out on the winning end of many, many highly outnumbered engagements with the nazis. His well worn kilt is displayed proudly on his mantle at home to this day.

Finally we look to the future. Past his years as a boisterous vacuum cleaner salesman. Past his days as a world famous yogurt speed-eater. Past his well-documented career as an NHL superstar Stanley Cup winner. Many years from now…

This sounds crazy and believe me, I’ve been called that before, but Hornqvist will outlive us all and lead his redneck people to survival against overwhelming numbers of the undead. The apocalypse is coming and Patric is our only hope to get through it.

He’s a redneck now (it just happens sometimes guys) and he’s as angry as ever. He’s had hundreds of years of survival training, leading men and lifting heavy things (3 Stanley Cups with the Pens, those get heavy). When you’re pathetic 40 year old camper is slowly being torn apart by the hungry mouths of your former neighbours and family you’ll pray to see the silhouette of Hornqvist and his shotgun marching over the horizon towards you.


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