Jimmy Butler 23 Points/5 Assists Full Highlights (11/7/2014)

Jimmy Butler sat in the boarded-up, abandoned building that he used as a safehouse and looked down at the glowing blue basketball in his hands. Here was a tool that he had used to start a revolution, a weapon of his own invention that possessed such destructive power that the World Government had been sent reeling. But it was over now. There was too much to overcome, and not enough willing men to do it.

He remembered that first day, when one of his co-revolutionaries had been raided. In an act of heroism, Julienne had called to notify Jimmy that he would be next. That had been the day that the bloodshed had begun. A smile curled his lips as he remembered taking out an entire disposal unit with one of his nuclear basketballs.

Jimmy had made up his mind. He would attempt to flee The City, out to the countryside; he had heard rumors of other resisting organizations out in the agrifields. It was likely to be a suicide mission, but it was definitely not safe for him anymore. Not here. There was nobody here to come to his aid, to continue to live in defiance of The Doctrines as brothers in revolution.

A tear ran down Jimmy’s face. Those had been such wonderful days.

Suddenly, there was a commotion on the street outside. The telltale voice through the public address system announced, “Code Orange in Sector 59. Repeat. Code Orange in Sector 59. Residents are commanded to stay indoors until the all clear is sounded. Repeat. Stay indoors until the all clear. Disobeyers will be terminated.”

Peering through a slit between the pieces of plywood covering the windows, Jimmy could see a lone man running down the street, looking over his shoulder in fear.

Code Orange meant a braincrime; a doctrine violation. There were, almost certainly, one or more disposal units coming after the man. But on foot, he could never outrun them. He had to get off the streets, soon, or he would be erased like so many others.

Running down the rickety stairs, Jimmy made it to the doorless front entrance of the building just as the man approached. “Hey! Get in here, man, before it’s too late!” The man, sweaty with exertion and breathing heavily, did not hesitate to take Jimmy’s offer of shelter. Beckoning the man to follow, Jimmy hustled back up the stairs.

“Listen up, son. They’re gonna find us here eventually,” Jimmy whispered The man nodded in understanding, too tired to speak. “I’ve got some stuff here so that we can put up a fight. A weapon of my own design. They’re afraid of it. Are you with me, brother?”

“Yes. Of course,” the man gasped. “Thank you.”

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“Doug McDermott, sir,” answered the man.

Jimmy shook Doug’s hand, then turned and opened the old trunk which contained his remaining supply of blue basketballs. “They won’t know what hit ’em,” he said to himself, as the sirens continued to blare their warning. “The revolution is back on.”

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