Anthony Morrow 20 Points Full Highlights (3/28/2014)

“I don’t know about this, Tyreke,” Anthony said worriedly, staring with distrust at the blender of protein shake sitting on the table in front of him. “I’m just fine the way I am.”

“No you ain’t, dog,” Tyreke responded. “You once posted up a chair and lost. You the skinniest dude in the league fo’ sure. But we’s gonna change that.”

“I don’t know, that Jennings dude is pretty skinny. I could probably take him,” Anthony responded. “But I don’t know how much more muscle my lean frame will accept.”

“Yo, stop saying ‘I don’t know’ like a little bitch,” Tyreke chided. “You do know. Everybody knows. You way too skinny. Now drink up.” To encourage the consumption of the protein shake, he poured a large amount of it into a glass and handed it to his teammate.

“Remind me what’s in this stuff again?”

Tyreke puffed up with pride. “My own secret formula. But since you a cool guy, I’ma tell you some of what I put in there. Of course, you got some whey protein, some casein protein, and some rice protein. Those things are gonna help you get sick gains. But for flavor, we got some whole milk, chocolate syrup, paprika, and horsey sauce from Arby’s,” Tyreke answered, enumerating the ingredients on his fingers. “Oh yeah, I crushed up a few Milk Duds in there too. The rest is a secret.”

This description of the beverage did not increase its appeal. “And you drink this yourself?”

“All day every day, dog. Once I started makin’ this stuff, my gains went through the roof!”

Carefully, tentatively, Anthony took a sip. As soon as the vile concoction touched his tongue, he began to cough and choke. After much spitting and clearing of his throat, he was finally able to speak his displeasure. “Damn dude! That was something rancid!”

Tyreke scowled. “Do you want gains or not?”

“I never said I wanted gains. You’re the one who put those words in my mouth.”

“Fine,” Tyreke snapped, grabbing the still-full glass. “If you don’t wanna add crazy bulk, I might as well.” He tipped half of the contents of the glass into his mouth. Immediately, the color drained from his face, and his gag reflex activated. After much struggle, he managed to swallow. “You’re missin’ out. This is like all-natural ‘roids, fo’ real.”

“Whatever, Tyreke,” Anthony said, getting up from the table. “Just remember, muscle mass has no bearing on shooting efficiency. Keep that in mind when you’re bricking another midrange jumper.”

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