Kelly Oubre was sitting in his locker, hunched over a notebook. The pen in his hand scribbled furiously, writing notes, then crossing them out and writing new ones over the top. Dwight Howard happened to walk by. “Hey, what’s that?” he asked. “Notes for your next novel?”
Shaking his head, Kelly didn’t even look up. “No. It’s diagrams for Klay’s house so I can figure out how best to infiltrate it and attack him.”
“Klay?” Dwight repeated. “Like Klay Thompson?”
John Wall chimed in from the next locker over. “Oh boy. Here we go again.”
Kelly ignored John’s jab. “Yes, Dwight, like Klay Thompson. I managed to get, like, one punch in on his face two seasons ago, but he deserves more. So much more.” While he explained this, he drew additional arrows and symbols across the hand-drawn plans.
“How do you know how his house is laid out?” Dwight asked, leaning in closer to look at the two notebook pages that his teammate was working on.
“These are just guesses,” Kelly said. “But the general principles of my plan will hold true even if, for example, the kitchen is not located directly off the living room or there is an additional length of hallway between the stairs and Klay’s bedroom.” He held up the notebook in front of Dwight’s face and pointed. “Like here, see, this is the room where he keeps his weed, so it’s also going to be his bedroom since he likes to wake and bake. And here’s the basement window that he keeps slightly ajar so that his dog can come in and out as he pleases.”
Dwight furrowed his brow. “I don’t think you can just make those assumptions when you’re planning an illegal home invasion.”
Having just thought of something else, Kelly ignored Dwight’s comment. “Hey, you can come with me to provide some muscle, show Klay that I mean business. Not like I can’t handle him by myself, because I know ninja karate, but you could beat up his dog if it wants to, like, bite us. I’m not sure if I could do my ninja moves on a dog, I only ever practiced on humans.”
“Uh, no thanks,” Dwight replied, walking away. “Good luck though.”
“I won’t need any luck when I’ve got this all planned out so well,” Kelly answered, happy that he was being left alone again to continue his work. “I hate you Klay Thompson,” he muttered to himself, writing the words in big block letters across the top of the page. “I hate you.”