“Jimmer, listen up. This is God speaking.”
Jimmer, in the middle of untying his shoes, looked up at the ceiling of the locker room. “This isn’t funny guys. Stop making fun of my religion.”
A light fixture above him suddenly burnt out in a cascade of sparks. “Do not doubt me, Jimmer.”
Dropping to his knees, Jimmer prostrated himself in front of his lord. “I am sorry, my lord. Please forgive me.”
God laughed, a booming laugh of great power. “Yes child. I will forgive your sins, provided you are clad in the special Mormon underwear.”
Jimmer pulled forward on the front of his shorts to find, in horror, that he was only wearing the Under Armor that he had worn during the game. “God damn…I mean, gosh darn it! Lord, please be lenient with your misguided follower. The heathens in the league office have mandates on underwear that are not to broken, on pain of suspension.”
The rest of the lights in the locker room flickered on and off. “The wishes of the NBA are insignificant compared to the desires of the Holy One. So it was written upon tablets of gold. I guess you don’t really want to join me on the planet Kolob for an eternity of glory in the kingdom of my radiance. To be honest, ever since your intelligence was created at the very beginning of time itself, I knew you would forsake me.”
Jimmer cried out, “No! I would never deny you! In the great War of Heaven, the battle of all battles, I chose you instead of the demon Lucifer!”
God continued as if Jimmer wasn’t speaking. “It’s too bad. Kolob is a pretty nice place. Not too many women, and the ones there are spend their infinite lives birthing trillions of spirit babies. It will be Spirit Prison for you and the other deniers!”
“God, no! I want to be on Kolob with you!” Jimmer wailed, crying. “I promise, I make a covenant unto you, I will wear the Mormon underwear at all times from now on!”
There was some snickering from above that sounded very un-Godlike. Suddenly, three of his teammates came crashing through the ceiling panels above him, leaving a huge cloud of dust in their wake.
“Damnit DeMarcus, I told you, that ceiling couldn’t support all three of us!” scolded Isaiah Thomas, who was holding a megaphone.
Jimmer was dumbfounded. “Wait…it was you guys all along?”
Isaiah laughed and addressed his other teammates. “I told you he would fall for it! Mormonism is such a joke, what moron-”
A blinding lightning bolt abruptly ended Isaiah’s words, his body reduced to mere ash. An all-encompassing voice emanated from all around them:
“God is real. He speaks now. By my Godly decree, Jimmer will now get at least 20 minutes a game, and all impediments to his deserved playing time shall be destroyed. So it is written upon tablets of gold!”