Nicolas Batum 27 Points/6 Threes Full Highlights (1/21/2015)

“Bon Dieu de merde,” Nic whispered, watching with fascination and horror.

“I warned you something bad would happens.” Victor Claver whimpered.

Nicolas Batum and his Spanish teammate were rooted to the floor as the horrific scene unfolded before their eyes. What had started as an innocent experiment on the effects of microwaves on basketballs had turned into something much, much worse.

The limblike protrusions now present on the ball had burst through the microwave, the remnants of which were now smoking. The lights in the training facility flickered and went out, quickly replaced by the eerie glow of the emergency lighting system. With a sickening thump, the deformed creation fell off the counter and onto the ground, where it mindlessly flailed its blackened limbs like a newborn baby.

“I think ten minute was too long, Nic. What madness have you unleashed?”

“I unleashed? It was your idea to microwave basketball you dumb Spaniard!”

As they argued, they failed to notice that the movements of the basketball were becoming more and more purposeful. Suddenly one of the arms swung out and grabbed Nicolas’ ankle.


Batum wrenched his leg free, turned around, and ran out of the room, Claver by his side. Sparing a glance behind him as he turned a corner, he saw the wretched spawn crawling along the floor behind them, gaining confidence in its movements with every passing second.

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