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Coyote Knight

Formerly known as “Canadian Federation”.

A Canadian Member currently living in Ottawa.



The Death of Canada - Radical political shake up of Canada, it's global influence, and power.

The Labrador War - Franco-Canadian War over St. Pierre et Miquelon and Arctic Access.

Iceland: Canada's 11th Province or How I Learned To Love Hakarl

A Distant Enemy: A Short Story TL - A story of a varied cast of characters and their interactions and responses to the onset of conflict with an unseen alien enemy beyond the solar system.

In progress
On indefinite hold/being reworked and rewritten

Claims to Fame / In Culture

Coyote Knight once faced down a menacing fowl coined “The Satanic Goose of Stratford”.

The Tale of "The Satanic Goose of Stratford"

In his own words:

Years ago when I was an even more socially awkward teenager, I learned that our drama class takes an annual trip to Stratford, Ontario for the theatre festival. I decided to go, since I love travel, and I would know most of the people on the trip. So we all have a great time on the way down south (my friend Kelly mooned as many people as she could along the highway in Toronto) and the first day is generally about getting familiar with the town. Emma and Caitlyn wanted to go shopping but I passed and took a pleasant and scenic walk through the town and mostly along the Thames river.

I grabbed some Mr. Sub and began to have a pleasant picnic of sorts along the banks of the Thames when I suddenly hear two familiar voices shrieking. I looked up and saw Emma and Caitlyn running towards me screaming for me to help them. I'm sitting there, about to dig into dinner, thinking “what the hell?” and then I see him…

The Satanic Goose of Stratford.

Chasing my friends is this jet black goose with blood-red eyes, hissing like the bastard goose he is. I put down my sandwich and grabbed a nearby stick and went to help the girls (I actually felt like such a gentlemanly hero at this point). The girls cower behind me, peering over my shoulders as I suddenly engage this goose in one-on-one combat. Satan's pet jumps up and flaps his wings in my general direction, but I swatted him with my stick as I took a step back, sending him back to the ground. He continues to hiss as he starts pecking and biting my stick. Thinking to myself “shit, this goose means business”, I punted the fucker right into the Thames. He made his way back to the shore, but I chased him there and cut him off, sending him flapping away from us, still hissing.

That goose continued to stalk us as we waited for the others to arrive for the evening show. That was the last I saw of the Satanic Goose until the next time I visited, which was the following year… Fast forward about a year, and it's time for another fun trip to Stratford and away from schoolwork. Even though I'm going to graduate, I had decided that there were some courses I really wanted to take, and give myself an opportunity to improve my math and English class marks. It's the last time I'll see many of my friends and classmates, so we make the most of it, spending a lot of time together throughout the trip. Emma is especially nice to me this trip and I spend a lot of time with her. Caitlyn and Liam were taking a paddleboat trip along the Thames, and Emma and I were just walking along the shore, keeping track of them (we were all rotating through on the paddleboat and taking pictures). As we're walking, Emma suddenly freezes. I look ahead and I see an old friend… The Satanic Goose of Stratford. I swear to God, this goose made eye contact with me, hissed like the little hellspawn he/she is, and begins charging us. Emma turns and runs away, but not me. No, it is merely un-fucking-finished business between me and Satan's pet. I look around, but there are no sticks so it's going to be an epic man-vs.-nature fight.

The bastard remembered my legs and starts attempting to peck at my shins, making me do this awkward Mexican hat dance fighting style as I try to keep my legs safe but kick this Satanic Goose away from me. He even jumps up, and I have to shield myself. The fucker scratches me and takes some of my hair.


As soon as the fucker lands, I grab him by the neck, squeezing as hard as I can (I can hear the goose struggling to hiss), and as if I'm a star Olympian throwing a discus, spin around and throw this fucker as far as I can in the direction of the Thames. I think I got about 40 feet in distance. The goose looks back at me, and something possessed me to shout “you want to go again, mother******?!” The goose simply kept swimming, occasionally looking back and terrorizing the odd goose and child. It seems like I've won yet another battle, but the war is not over yet…

Next year comes by, and while I've already finished my studies, I go on the trip because it also happens to be the last time I will see one of my favourite teachers before he retired, and I didn't have him as a teacher on my “victory lap” semester. I know fewer people on the trip this time around, but it's still fun and I'm generally the guy the younger students come to for advice on where to go, what to buy, where to eat, etc. So I ended up at the Festival Theatre a little earlier than I hoped for, but my soon-to-be-retired teacher is there as well. We talk about literature, politics, and world events until I see a familiar foe…

The Satanic Goose of Stratford.

This time however, he's terrorizing a family of Chinese tourists. I say to my teacher “Excuse me, I have business to attend to” and run over to the bastard goose. Upon seeing me, the goose halts his assault on the tourists and flaps as fast as he can right into the Thames. I see him looking back, seething with goose rage that I have interrupted his reign of goosey terror yet again. He turns as if to make his way back to shore as I pull away, but I run back to the water's edge and toss a stick at him that was near the banks. He turns and flees again.

The Chinese tourists approach me and thank me for my help, even asking for a photo with me, to which I obliged. As I returned to my teacher, he asks me what the hell that was all about. I simply told him that it was a “long story”.

And so ends the Tale of the Satanic Goose of Stratford.

(I don't know what happened to the goose after that, since it was the last time I went to Stratford.)

offtopic/coyote_knight.txt · Last modified: 2019/03/29 15:13 by

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