John Wall arrived early to practice, thinking he would be the first one in the gym. His dreams of having an undisturbed warmup session where dashed, however, when he saw Kelly Oubre sitting cross-legged at center court, surrounded by yarn and knitting needles.
“Do I even want to know?” John asked as he walked up to his teammate.
“No, you don’t,” Kelly replied. “Can you just, like, leave or something? Practice doesn’t start for four hours and you’re distracting me.”
John decided that he did want to know what Kelly was working on, even though he had a strange inkling that he already knew what it was. “You learning to knit, man?”
“If you must know, yes, I am teaching myself the ancient art of knitting. Or crocheting, if you’re into accuracy. I’m working on some mittens for my dog.” Concentrating on the intricate needlework, Kelly didn’t look up at his teammate while giving this explanation.
Crouching down to get a closer look at Kelly’s project, John said, “Those don’t like like mittens, dude.”
Kelly threw down his needles in frustration. “Okay, you caught me! I’m making a voodoo Klay Thompson doll so I can command his soul and endlessly torment him from afar.”
This summary didn’t surprise John in the least. “So that karate thing didn’t work out?”
“Biggest waste of money ever,” Kelly grumbled. “He didn’t even know how to decapitate people with karate chops.” Then, Kelly’s expression brightened, and his next words were said more to himself than to John. “But now I’ll have a voodoo doll that I can use to get Klay Thompson to give me his address and then I can go kick his ass in person.” He stared at the lumpy, flesh-colored, vaguely humanoid doll that was in his hands.
“You can’t just make a doll and expect it to be a voodoo doll. You have to put some hocus pocus on it somehow,” John said.
“You think I don’t know that?” Kelly snapped. “That’s phase two. But phase two is easy. Phase one is the hard part because my coordination blows dick and I can’t use these needles at all.” He annoyedly brushed some scraps of yarn out of his hair. “But I will persevere through these trials, and, in the end, Klay will receive the punishment he so richly deserves.”
“Whatever,” John said. “I’m gonna practice now.”
But Kelly didn’t seem to have heard him. He had his tongue stuck out between his lips, focusing on the tiny replica Warriors jersey that was taking form from a coil of blue yarn. “I hate you Klay,” he whispered to himself.