Thaddeus Young 29 Points Full Highlights (11/1/2013)

Thaddeus Young approached Jan Vesely after the game and shook his hand.

“Good game, yo. But I gots somethin’ more important to talk about. Word around the locker room is you a bona-fide foodie. Can you hook me up with a good cheesesteak in DC?”

Jan nodded eagerly. “Yes. I know all of the best cheesesteak in the area. I tell you friend, DC could be consider a cheesesteak Mecca.”

Thaddeus rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Just point me in the right direction, and do it quick, because I’m always hungrier after dropping 29 on some poor fools.”

Jan nodded again. He never seemed to stop nodding. “Of course. Best cheesesteak in DC you can find at La Ville Paris. It’s downtown by theater. All politicians love it.” To emphasize his point, he kissed his fingers in the universal symbol of “deliciousness”.

“Cool, I’ll check it out. You a true bro.”

“Man, this place looks kinda fancy…” Thaddeus thought to himself as he stepped out of his taxi. “But Jan would never lead me astray,” he reminded himself as he walked in the door.

“Reservation?” asked the hostess.


“Very well sir. Right this way, please,” she said. The hostess led him to a small table with a myriad of silverware upon it. “Pierre will be right with you.”

Thaddeus squeezed himself into the tiny chair. Other diners were looking at him with interest. He began to feel self-conscious in his sweatpants and t-shirt, so he occupied himself with his phone to avoid their gaze.

Soon, his waiter arrived at the table. “Good evening. My name is Pierre and I will be assisting you tonight,” the waiter sneered, talking with a very heavy French accent. “Tonight’s wine special is a fantastic dry Riesling from the hills of Toulouse. And the chef’s selection is a finely-crafted escargot plate, served with a fig-almond reduction and-”

Thaddeus stopped the waiter in mid-sentence. “Yeah, that’s cool and all, but just get me a cheesesteak. Actually, two. And a Pepsi.”

With an affronted look, Pierre wrote down the basketball player’s order. “Excellent choices, sir.”

After forty-five minutes, Thaddeus was getting antsy. He had finished his Pepsi thirty minutes ago. Everybody else had bottles of wine and just looking at them made him jealous and thirsty. While his waiter tended to an adjacent table, Thaddeus cut in, “Yo Pierre, when my food gettin’ here? And can I get a refill on my soda?”

Pierre turned around to glare at Thaddeus. “Your food will be ready shortly, sir.”

True to his word, Pierre soon brought out the cheesesteak, as well as a topped-off glass of Pepsi. “Enjoy your meal.”

Thaddeus stared in disbelief at the abomination before him. Five miniscule strips of steak were arrayed neatly across the plate, topped with what appeared to be some kind of stinky French cheese. On the side was a small ciabatta roll and a garnish of roasted red peppers. After carefully scraping off the cheese with his knife, Thaddeus picked up a piece of steak in his fingers and dropped it into his mouth.

He spit it out immediately; it was completely uncooked. Bubbling with rage, he left his food uneaten and sought out Pierre, who was waiting on a table across the restaurant.

Pierre noticed his approach and turned to face him. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

Thaddeus nodded. “Yeah. That crap you gave me ain’t no cheesesteak. It was an insult. You have angered the king of Cheesesteakia.”

“Sir, what you were served is an example of the finest French cuisine, and-”

Pierre’s words came to an abrupt end when Thaddeus crushed the Frenchman’s pointy jaw with his fist, knocking Pierre to the floor, out cold. “Boom. Headshot.”

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