Hey J.J. I know you’re reading this man. I need you to Fedex me a whole box of bratwurst (Klement’s please, none of this Johnsonville crap, I have standards). Nestled among the wieners should be a vial containing a few of your hairs. I intend to conduct an experiment on the genetics of jump-shooting, but David Stern is watching my every move, thus the sausages. He’s got his minions embedded in every parcel-shipping service in the country, and if he knew what I was planning, he would have me snuffed in two minutes flat.
Include with the box a note saying “Thanks DTB for the sick highlight videos! You’re the best! Have some delicious Milwaukee bratwurst as a token of my appreciation. -J.J.” This will make the otherwise-suspicious crate of extruded meat product less prone to arouse concerns in the Stern camp.
I will delete this message as soon as the shipment is on my doorstep. I eagerly await your “gift”.