Mike James looked up at his teammate Tyler Ulis. As Tyler expected, Mike seemed annoyed by the “rookie” reference, given that the rookie was actually five years Tyler’s senior. “What’s up, Tyler?”
Tyler smirked. “I just wanted you to know that with my strong play tonight, you’re probably going to go back to the G-League now. There’s only room for one midget point guard on the team and it’s me.”
“Yeah, well, my agent says they’re looking at signing me to a regular contract, so we’ll see what happens,” Mike replied. He returned to tying his shoes, clearly hoping that the conversation was finished, but Tyler had other plans.
“No, I’m sure you’re going to go the G-League now,” he said confidently.
Mike sighed and looked up from his shoes. “What makes you say that?”
Tyler retrieved a handgun from inside his shorts, flicked off the safety, and pointed it at his teammate. “Me and my friend Gilbert Arenas here are in agreement. You’re not going to be on this team for much longer.” Gilbert Arenas was the nickname he had given the gun that he always kept in his locker for situations such as these.
His eyes wide, Mike put up his hands as if he was being targeted by the police. “Yeah. I agree totally. I’m going to play in the G-League for the rest of the season,” he said shakily. “I’ll call my agent and tell him that I think it will benefit my development. So could you please put the gun down now?”
Satisfied by Mike’s answer, Tyler reactivated the gun’s safety and put Gilbert Arenas back in his shorts. “That’s what I thought.” Confident that his role on the team was now more solidified than it had been just minutes prior, he exited the locker room, imagining with glee all the minutes he would be receiving going forward.