JaVale McGee was lounging on his patio on the cold winter’s night, fresh from a long soak in his hot tub. Swathed in a mauve robe, he lay supine on his recamier, considering the majesty of the eternal cosmos. Suddenly his phone rang. He seemed to not notice it for a few seconds, but eventually reached over and grabbed it from the endtable it rested on. “This is JaVale”.
“Yo, dog, what’s up, it’s your homie Andray! How’s it been man?”
“Andray, my friend, it’s been a long time. I hear that you are doing quite well in Brooklyn. I am very happy for you.”
“That’s right, Brooklyn’s been real good to me. Real good. And not just the basketball, if you know what I mean, huh?.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Please elaborate”.
“What you on, man? What I mean is, the ladies here are fine. Real high class hos we got here. Let me tell you, just a few hours ago I was gettin’ worked on by three at once man, and that’s not the best of it…”
“Andray, show some respect! Women are not objects!”
“Yo, what’s your problem? You ain’t turnin’ homo on me, are you?”
“I know and appreciate the fine touch of a woman, but even if I did prefer the love of men, it would be none of your concern.”
“You sounding really uppity. You’ve changed, and not for the good neither. What happen to the old JaVale?”
“I left him behind in Washington. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
He ended the call, and lay back down, savoring the cool mountain air sharp against his face.
“Who was that on the phone?”. Kenneth Faried had stepped onto the patio.
“Oh just an old comrade of mine from the Wizards. Isn’t it funny, he accused me of homosexuality!”.
“Yeah, that’s real funny”, Faried murmured as he moved closer…
To be continued?