“Hey Patrick, it was really nice of you to invite me over,” said Francisco Garcia, standing at the front door to Patrick’s apartment.
“It’s nothing. I just, figure, you know, we’re teammates, we should hang out sometimes. For chemistry, or whatever,” Patrick responded. “Watch out for Woofers, he really likes licking strangers.”
As they entered the living room, Francisco looked with worry at the artwork adorning the walls. “Um, interesting choice of decoration, I have to say,” he said as neutrally as possible. All around him were framed pictures of Russell Westbrook, but none of them were just normal portraits. Many had realistic-looking blood splattered on them. Some were torn to tatters. Some had large red X’s on them. A fair few were just close-ups of Westbrook’s knees.
“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get us some beverages?” Patrick asked/commanded, spurring Francisco to sit promptly on the nearest seat he could find. As he looked around uncomfortably, a large, friendly dog, who must have been Woofers, came over and licked Francisco’s face eagerly.
“Oh, I see that you and Woofers are already good friends,” Patrick commented, holding in his hands two lemonades. He sat down across from his teammate and sipped his drink in silence.
Francisco wanted to talk about something else, but the only thing occupying his mind was Patrick’s obsession with a certain Thunder player. “You must really hate Russell Westbrook,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and friendly.
Patrick’s expression darkened. “You have no idea,” he responded softly, talking to himself more than to Francisco. “I invite every teammate here to remind them that if they ever get on my bad side, I will end their careers. Russell might not be technically retired yet, but if he ever dares to step on the court with me, I will make sure that there is no confusion as to his retired status. His knees will be little more than a few shredded tendons and muscles. No player is spared the anger of Patrick ‘The Leveler’ Beverley.”
Gulping down his lemonade, Francisco got up from his seat. “It was cool hanging out, man. I gotta split.”
Patrick watched his teammate bustle to his car and speed away, then returned to his living room, smiling. They always freaked out when he did that.