Jonas Valanciunas Career High 33 Points/1 Game-Winning Missed Free Throw Full Highlights (3/20/2019)

It was easy, too easy, for Jonas Valanciunas to gain entry into the dim office building. A janitor had been outside taking his smoke break, and a quick five-thousand-dollar payment had gotten Jonas in through the building’s loading dock without difficulty. Now, Jonas prowled through the halls, the layout of which were familiar to him, even if the lack of lighting distorted his surroundings and cast some doubt in his mind as to which way to go.

Finally, after several wrong turns, Jonas got to the corridor which held his goal. So far, he hadn’t encountered any other late-night workers; as far as he knew, he, the janitor, and the man in the office at the end of the hallway were the only ones in the building. That was for the best, really. Fewer chances of…”interruptions”.

Jonas tiptoed to the door of the office. In the crevice between door and carpet, a small amount of light spilled out, indicating occupation. The only other light in the hallway was that of the glowing red, almost bloody, “exit” sign.

Not wasting any more time, he tested the doorknob. Locked. But Jonas was ready for this possibility; he stepped back and delivered a decisive, swift kick to the lock mechanism, which broke right off. With nothing holding the door shut, the difference in air pressure between the cool hallway and warm office swung it open.

Nick Nurse sat at his desk, looking shocked at what was surely an awe-inducing sight: a burly seven-foot-tall shadow blocking his only escape route. Jonas stepped forward until he was in the radius of Nick’s desk lamp. “Hello coach.”

“J-J-Jonas…” Nick stuttered. “W-what are you d-”

“SHUT UP!” Jonas roared, slamming his fist on the desk and cleaning crushing one of the framed portraits that was on it. He looked mildly at his hand, bloodied by broken glass, before looking again at his former coach. “I’m in charge here.”

“S-sure,” Nick said, looking deathly afraid.

“I just scored 33 points earlier tonight,” Jonas continued, abruptly switching to a more conversational tone. “If only you had utilized me correctly, those 33 points could have happened while I wore a Raptors jersey.”

“We had to make a change,” Nick replied in a voice that was impossibly tiny compared to the voice of the Lithuanian giant in front of him. “It was for the benefit of both parties.”

Jonas laughed bitterly. “Toronto loved me and I loved them. But I suppose that doesn’t mean much when you can trade for a washed-up, fat former All-Star. But now…now you will get a taste of my Lithuanian Lightning.”

“What’s th-” Nick began to ask, but his question was cut off short as Jonas’ fist came flying with unexpected speed through the air and connected with his face, knocking him out.

“Where am I?” Nick moaned from his position lying on the hard concrete floor.

Jonas looked over the from circuit breaker box with derision in his expression, an expression that was cold enough to rival the frigid temperatures in the basement of the Raptors’ front office building. “Don’t worry, I didn’t kidnap you. Your office is right upstairs, and I’ll make sure to bring you back when I’m done here.”

“Done with what?” Nick asked with panic rising in his voice. “With what!?” He tried to sit up, but was still too groggy from the punch to have effective control over his limbs.

Pulling out a bundle of wires from the disassembled circuit breaker, Jonas separated them by color. Wikipedia had taught him everything he needed to know about electricity. “The Lithuanian Lightning, of course.”

Nick, sensing what was about to happen, tried to crawl away towards the stairs, but he was grabbed by the ankle and easily dragged back. Then, Jonas picked the smaller man up and propped him unsteadily on his feet. “Maybe now you will think twice about marginalizing your franchise centerpiece, then trading him.”

“That was Masai!” Nick wailed desperately. “He wanted to do the trade!”

“And you agreed to it,” Jonas replied stonily. “Now you must face…the Lithuanian Lightning.” Without warning, he grabbed Nick and spun him towards the exposed wires before shoving his entire torso into the mass of free-flowing electricity. The effect was immediate and disturbing: as thousands of volts coursed through Nick’s body, sparks flew out in all directions. His clothes and skin began to melt and his hair spontaneously caught fire. His screams, initially so loud, were soon just choking gasps, and then nothing at all. When Jonas finally pulled him away, he fell lifelessly to the ground.

Jonas laughed as he picked up the body, which was breathing, but only just. He carried it up the stairs, back to the office, and propped it up in the swank leather chair. He knew with certainty that no executive or coach would ever toy with his minutes ever again.

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