Karl-Anthony Towns looked sadly out of a window in his apartment. The sky, frustratingly, was a bright, wintery blue.
“Where’s the snow, Ricky? You said there would be snow.” he whined, pressing his nose against the cold glass.
Ricky Rubio’s annoyed voice came from the kitchenette. “I never promised anything, Karl, and you know that. I said when you first arrived that snow was something that sometimes happened here, I concede. But I made no guarantees of when snow would arrive, or if it arrived, how long it would stay. Now, who’s ready for some hot chocolate!” He walked out, carrying two large red mugs of the drink. He sat down next to Karl on the couch, and offered him one.
“NO!” Karl yelped as he swiped the warm beverage out of his teammate’s hand, sending it careening to the carpet, where it quickly began to spread. “I don’t want hot chocolate, not when it’s practically summer outside! I want snow, Ricky! I want snow, and I want it now!” He began thrashing his limbs, acting out in defiance against the uncooperative weather.
Ricky looked on calmly, as if having experienced this before. “Karl, dear, hot chocolate is your favorite. I have another mug right here, and I’m going to leave it on this table right here. You can have it when you are ready.” He stood up, and walked back to the kitchen to grab some paper towels.
Karl didn’t seem to have heard, as he had now flung himself onto the brown-stained carpet, continuing his mad flailing.