Mike D’Antoni was sitting in his office, contemplating rotations for that day’s game against the Lakers, when the power suddenly went out in his office. “Those stupid construction workers,” he muttered, referencing the construction project that was ongoing across the street. He got up to flip his light switch off and on again, but no luck: the lights still didn’t come back.
Thinking he would at least move somewhere next to a window with sunlight, he began to walk towards the door, but stopped when he saw something very strange standing in front of where he thought the door was: a wide, glowing smile, a pair of unblinking eyes, and a white headband.
“You’re gonna regret trading me, I’ll make sure of it” said the apparently disembodied mouth. “That half-season rental of Lou Williams really worked out great, don’t you agree?”
Mike recognized the voice. “Corey, you skinny asshole, how the hell did you get into my office?”
Corey Brewer did not answer the question. “Go to the locker room and tell your team that they’re gonna lose this one. Go now. They deserve to know. The Brewmaster has arrived.”
“Because I had the lights on and was sitting here the whole time,” Mike continued. “Unless you dropped in through the ceiling or something, there’s no way you could have gotten in here.”
Corey laughed. “You don’t even know what a true revenge game is. But you will.”
Without warning, the lights came back on, but with his vision restored, Mike couldn’t see Corey anywhere. He looked around behind him, but Corey wasn’t there either. Slightly disturbed, he went back to his desk to resume his work, but couldn’t focus. Corey’s warnings echoed hauntingly in his mind.