At the beginning of last season, Master Zach sent me on a dastardly plot to undermine Captain Patrik Elias’s mental stability. It is no secret that Master Zach has his eyes on that coveted “C”, and putting Elias off his game seemed the most direct route to getting it. He locked himself in his study for two days, advising me to not to interrupt him for any purpose whatsoever. Not even to deliver his dinner on a silver tray. After the two days he presented to me two plots:

1. Drop a small army of termites into Elias’s equipment bag.
2. Fill the equipment bag with the variety of ersatz snakes that are packed in novelty cans labeled “peanuts”.

Since I could not in good conscience give my vote of confidence for either plot, Master Zach assumed I found both too devious to pass up. He asked me to combine the two “genius” plots. As a result, I filled Elias’s equipment bags with joke peanut cans filled with termites. I observed Elias closely and can confirm he never once opened the cans. In fact, the only soul who saw them was the assistant equipment trainer, who tossed them in the nearest refuse receptacle upon their discovery. However, Patrik has developed a troubling mental instability. As far as Master Zach is concerned, this is a direct result of his plotting. I am not inclined to dissuade him of such.

After Master Zach suffered a disheartening loss to begin his latest National Hockey League campaign, he requested I send telegrams to Mssrs. Lecavalier, St. Louis, Richards and Prospal. Each telegram was made to look as though they had come from the front offices of the Tampa Bay Lightning, and each one simply read, “You are fired”. I have my doubts about whether this will even the score in the grand scheme of life, but Master Zach was adamant that he felt much better after the deed was done.

Today Master Zach set into play a very dastardly plot. He engineered to accept delivery of a gift of an article of clothing from Sir Sidney Crosby’s new clothing collection. Master Zach made sure he was in a crowded mall atrium when he said, in an elevated and excited tone, “I say! A new shirt from that chappie Sidney’s new fancy fashion line!” Everyone looked to see what the to-do was about just as Master Zach unfurled the shirt, revealing the dead mouse he had me rig into the shirt that morning. “Eek!” shrieked Master Zach (he really did a convincing girlish shriek, I will give him that), “A deceased rodent! In this shirt I purchased from Sidney Crosby’s clothing line!” We expect sales of Lord Crosby’s new merchandise adventure to drop precipitously as no one wants clothes containing dead mice, and we expect said sales to never recover. This makes Master Zach ever so happy.

Today saw months of hard work come to fruition as I assisted Master Zach in gaining a small measure of revenge against one who wronged him. I cannot name the target of our plot, as he is a man of great power and influence over Master Zach, but his name was indelibly etched in the “To Be Revenged” ledger for his role in the stunting of Master Zach’s professional ice hockey career during the early months of his “rookie” season. This man — I shall call him “L” — is a notorious skinflint. So while Master Zach was participating in a foursome with L and two other members of the ruling class of the New Jersey Devils during a team golf outing, I endeavored to place a dollar bill upon the manicured greens where L would come across it. I then affixed to the dollar bill a great length of fishing wire that was invisible to the unsuspecting eye, and secreted myself in the tall grass of the nearby rough whilst holding fast to the other end of the wire. When L bent to pick up the dollar bill I yanked the wire and pulled the banknote just beyond his reach. Such a cheapskate is L, that he chased the bill further and further from the green, repeatedly reaching for the single dollar, only to find it, once again, whisked away from him at the very last minute. Master Zach endeavored to keep a straight face, but I know him well enough now to be able to read his moods — he was deeply satisfied, and felt avenged indeed.

One of Master Zach’s dastardly plots came to fruition today. Months ago, he commanded me to stealthily, under dark of night, lift Master Paulie’s Hennepin County Library card from his wallet. Master Zach proceeded to check out a vast number of library books, not a single one of which he has returned. Today, Master Paulie received the bill totaling his previously unknown overdue and late fees. His level of unhappiness increased Master Zach’s glee quotient a great deal.

Today I had to delegate some of Master Zach’s revenge work to a henchperson. I will not name the unfortunate man who was selected to do Master Zach’s dirty work for him, but I will make note for posterity that he is a man of the utmost trustworthiness who has even fought for Master Zach on occasion. The revenge task at hand was most distasteful, and I protested it vociferously as being childish and ineffectual. But Master Zach was in one of his moods, and as such could not be swayed. After voicing my objections, I set to work assembling a paper bag filled with dog dirt and handed it off to the henchperson. He then deposited the bag, with its odiferous contents, in front of Larry Robinson’s front door and set the bag alight. Then he rang the doorbell and hid behind some bushes. He reported back that Coach Robinson indeed opened the door to answer the bell, and, upon discovering the conflagration on his welcome mat, stomped the bag to stop the fire. And yes, he ended up with feces on his shoes. I was unimpressed, but Master Zach clapped his hands and giggled with delight on hearing the henchperson’s report. I believe Master Zach still harbors a grudge about how Coach Robinson handled his entre to the NHL.

Today Master Zach invited young Travis Zajac to his annual Uno Tournament. However, he was not aware that I had carefully and sneakily rigged the deck, per Master Zach’s directions. On every new turn, Zach drew and played Skip cards, thereby keeping Travis from ever being alloted a turn. There was no question who would be the victor of this prestigious tourney.

Today I received a missive from Master Zach that read:

“You are hereby requested and required to replace Arch nemesis Crunchy’s jock strap with one made of tiger shark skin.”

Although I was unsure of how this plot would exact revenge, I did as I was told. I can only hope that the subtle difference between a tiger-stripe pattern and a tigersharkskin design will go undetected until the most inopportune moment, at which point Mssr. Crunchy will, as they say in the States, “lose his marbles”. I have it on good authority that Mssr. Crunchy doesn’t not attend to hockey matters in the summertime, so the efficacy of this plot will remain unseen for several fortnights.

Today Master Zach requested I carve all of the foliage on Paulie Martin’s lawn into topiaries celebrating the great moments of Master Zach’s career. It took several hours, but I am fairly confident this plan will have the desired effect on Mr. Martin.