“What will you be having?”
“Gimme your 32 ounce porterhouse. I’m a hungry dude. Big game tonight. Sides of asparagus and mashed potatoes. And some mineral water.”
“How would you like the steak cooked? Well done?”
“No way man, actually…”
The waiter cut him off. “Get it? WELL DONE! Because you’re frickin’ done! No way can you contribute to a winning team anymore! The Heat only keep you on out of pity! I’ve seen some done players in my time, but you are well and truly the donest! Caron Butler doesn’t have anything on you…”
“Hold on. Who you callin’ done? I still got it, and I’ll have you know…”
The waiter continued as if Udonis had never started talking. “…can’t even jump anymore, never mind dunking it! With a jumper that is the most messed up abomination in the league! LeBron was in here with his entourage. I overheard him talking. He said, and I quote, ‘Udonis Haslem is so done that they might as well cut him and give Justin Hamilton his minutes’ and all his cronies laughed and laughed! At your expense! Justin Hamilton, can you believe it? That guy is such a scrub! Hahahaha!”
Still laughing to himself, the waiter walked off back to the kitchen. Udonis stared after him curiously.
“I hope he knows I like my steak medium rare.”