The Scene: Marc Bergevin's dream. Amidst the scrum of beautiful women showing him samples of designer suits and hair gel, Bergevin hears the voice of The Almighty.
God: Marc! Marc Bergevin! Hear My voice!
Bergevin: Stan Bowman! Is that you?
God: It is I! The Almighty Creator. Father of the Universe.
God: (impatiently) It's God, you heathen!
Bergevin: Of course! Sorry. I'm so sorry, Lord.
God: That's better. Now, I have a bone to pick with you.
Bergevin: What's the matter, Lord?
God: I have given you dominion over My holy and chosen team. Yet, I am swamped by prayers from Canadiens fans begging for help. Do you have ANY idea how many Canadiens fans there are, and how much they pray?! Sheesh!
Bergevin: But, Lord, I've been doing my best. I'm trying to build through the draft and not make any major moves until our young guys are ready to contend. That's what I'm supposed to be doing, for Your sake!
God: Yeah, yeah. That's fine if you're LA or St.Louis. You're the Canadiens, Me help Me. Your fans are nuts and they're getting on My last nerve. It's time to make a move and get them off My back.
Bergevin: But, Lord...
God: You don't have to do anything, Marc. Just listen: You shall find your salvation in snow.
Bergevin: (hesitantly) Um...do I have to dig somewhere? Or follow footprints in the snow? Or...
God: (exasperated) Do I have to spell it out?! You will find salvation in Snow. Garth Snow.
Bergevin: Really? That dummy? He's an old goalie, You know.
God: Of course I know. Now, this is what will happen: On trade deadline day, you will call Snow and you will offer him Sebastian Collberg and a conditional second-round pick for Thomas Vanek.
Bergevin: Wha...hahahahahahahahahahahaha! (gasps for breath) Lord...you can't be serious...
God: I am ALWAYS serious. Except when I go to Tommy Tiernan concerts. Then I just laugh all night. Anyway...you will call Snow. The most important part is, you must call him at exactly 2:58 on deadline day.
Bergevin: But, Lord, that's too late to get a trade through.
God: You need only to call, and Vanek shall be yours. Do you trust the Lord, your God?
Bergevin: Yes, Lord. But, can I have Tavares instead?
God: Don't push your luck, pretty boy.
The Scene: Habs dressing room, the day after Marc Bergevin traded for Thomas Vanek in deadline day high drama.
Bergevin: Okay, guys. I want you to know I believe in you. This is why I have brought Thomas Vanek into our family. My work is done for now. It's up to you guys to take the next step. I have a plan, and you need to be part of it. Vanek is a Canadien, but you have to help him want to stay in Montreal. Everyone in this room has to play a part.
Brian Gionta: What do you want me to do, Marc? As captain, I'll do whatever I can to help the team.
Bergevin: Thanks, Gio. Well, you can give up your spot on Pleky's line. Thomas will need a creative centreman to play with.
Tomas Plekanec: Ano! Děkuji ti, Bože. Slyšel jsi mé modlitby. Nevěřil jsem, že předtím, ale teď jsem to!
Gionta: Sorry, Pleky?
Plekanec: Oh, uh...I said, "Damn it...I've been having great success with Gio."
Gionta: But I didn't hear my name.
Plekanec: Ah...in Czech, your name sounds like "Bože."
God: Pleky, you're pushing it.
Gionta: Oh, okay. I'll miss playing with Pleky, but I'll do what I can.
Josh Gorges: LET'S GO RED! LET'S GO RED!
Bergevin: Thanks, Josh. We want you to give up your number and let Thomas have it. It's a warm gesture of welcome because it's the only number he's ever worn.
Gorges: But...that's my number. I've worn it since I came to Montreal. I feel a bit...entitled to it.
Bergevin: LET'S GO RED!
Gorges: LET'S GO RED, LET'S GO RED! GIVE THE NEW GUY MY NUMBER!
Bergevin: Thanks, Josh. Now, Carey. You're the one Thomas said he was most impressed with when he found out he was traded. Your job is to...do your job.
Carey Price: If this guy can actually give me some goal support, I'll carry his hockey bag. Seriously, finding a goal on this team has been like finding water on Mars.
Bergevin: (clears throat) Thanks, Pricey. Okay. I want Prusty and P.K. to show the guy the town. I want Boods to speak to him in Slovakian...remind him of his dad. I want anyone with a stylish wife to wine and dine Mrs.Vanek. We have to work together on this.
Markov: Where is all the money to come from, to sign all the players you want?
Bergevin: Well, Marky, we'll talk. Right now, it's about Thomas.
Markov: (looks up agents' numbers on his phone) Okay, Marc. Excuse me, I have to make a quick call.
Bergevin: George? You took economics in college, right?
George Parros: Yeah?
Bergevin: Great. Your job is to tell Vanek taxes in Montreal are great. Danny? You played with Thomas in Buffalo. Tell him about how we're a big, cultural family and don't say anything about your time on the fourth line. Lars? Take him skiing. All you guys have a job to do. We want to win, and this guy can help us do it.
Michel Therrien: Yeah! Great speech! What can I do, Marc? How can I help keep this guy?
Bergevin: Well, Mike...you can just...shut up. Don't give any speeches. Don't tell the guy he needs to be more defensive. Don't put him on the third line if he costs an O-zone penalty. Just shut up. The less he sees of you, the better.
Therrien: But, I'm the coach...how am I supposed to do my job if I can't talk to him?
Bergevin: He can do his job. Just give him a playmaking centre, and you have no worries.
Thomas Vanek enters the rooom:
Therrien: Welcome, Thomas. Now...let's find a place for you...
Bergevin: (shoots Therrien the evil eye) Have you met Michel? Good luck, and we hope you love Montreal.
Gorges: LET'S GO RED!
Vanek: Okay, here we go.