Since the dawning of the Age of Man, the Sevenfold Door has stood as a monument to our species’ brief moment in the sun and a memorial to all those who gave their lives and souls during its construction. As long as we honored the memories of those whose blood forged the Great Seal, our tiny planet flourished, safe from the whims of the gods and monsters who rule the outer darkness. But we are a degenerate people, with none of the courage or wisdom of our ancestors, and our foolhardy leaders have failed to make the sacrifices necessary to renew the sacred magicks and dread enchantments. Today, I say unto you: Humanity will finally pay the price for its arrogance and foolishness!
Now I will show you a dreadful wonder: The Seal is shattered, the Door open at last, and the age of the new Philadelphia Flyers mascot is upon us. Behold the Doom of Philadelphia, the Eater of Souls, Destroyer of the Faith, the one known in our realm as “Gritty”:
Nothing can save you from his dreadful gaze, mortal!
His reign begins this night and shall last even unto the End of Days. For Gritty was not, but now Gritty is, and Gritty shall be forevermore.
The sacred texts will save no one. Though we pore over the tired, dead words of the official Philadelphia Flyers website’s description of Gritty, there is no succor there, nay, nor hope neither:
His father was a “bully,” so naturally he has some of those tendencies—talented but feisty, a fierce competitor, known for his agility given his size. He’s loyal but mischievous; the ultimate Flyers fan who loves the orange and black, but is unwelcoming to anyone who opposes his team. Legend has it he earned the name “Gritty” for possessing an attitude so similar to the team he follows.
He claims that he’s been around for a lot longer than we know it, and recent construction at the Wells Fargo Center disturbed his secret hideout forcing him to show his face publicly for the first time. He has some oddities that are both humorous and strange. A number of times he’s been caught eating snow straight from the Zamboni machine, and unbeknown to most, his love of hot dogs has been inflating the Flyers Dollar Dog Night consumption totals for years.
That being said, there’s no denying that he’s one of our own.
Indeed, he is one of our own. Let the sun hide its face in shame and the moon fall from the sky in sorrow: The Philadelphia Flyers have a new mascot.
