Will Barton entered the house with the stealthiness of a veteran home intruder. However, he wasn’t here to steal material goods. He had plenty of those. This was an excursion to cement his viability as an NBA player.
Thankful for the carpeted floors, Will sneaked soundlessly into one of the many bedrooms of the residence. He had scouted this place out for a while, and he was intimately familiar with the resident’s napping patterns. It was always the same room at the same time.
His target slept like a baby, sprawled out on top of the sheets with a growing puddle of drool forming on the pillow. Will retrieved a hammer from his pocket and brought it behind his head, ready to swing.
He hesitated. This was not the way he usually treated his friends. But Will’s NBA career was in doubt, and he might not be in the league for much longer. The thought of having to play overseas after being such a hyped prospect was the impetus he needed to swing the hammer down, slamming it squarely into the sleeping man’s crotch area.
“OWWW!” yelled the man, immediately waking from his slumber. “MY BAAAAAAAAALLS!” But his attacker had already made his escape, and the screams of pain were heard only by the empty house.
Mo Williams walked up to Will Barton before the game. “Yo, man, I don’t know if I can play tonight. I woke up from my afternoon nap and now my groin’s killing me. You might have to step up, bro. Stotts is gonna be calling your number.”
Will tried not to smile too much. “Oh, that sucks, dude. You talk to the trainers yet? Is there anything they can do?”
“They said I have to rest and ice it. Apparently, it’s a pretty bad injury.”
Celebrating on the inside, Will maintain his sympathetic outward facade. “Tough break. An elimination game, too. Well, I’ll be ready if coach needs me.”
Mo wandered off to explain the situation to some other teammates. As soon as Will was left alone, he broke into a cold, cruel laugh.