Channing Frye 15 Points Full Highlights (2/24/2016)

“Come on guys, do I really have to do this?” Channing asked, looking at the entrance to the McDonald’s with trepidation.

“We haze all the new players,” LeBron reiterated. “Trust us, we’re going easy on you. You should have seen what we made Timofey do when he got here.”

“It was no big problem, drinking the whole bottle of vodka,” Timofey replied from the backseat. “But the part about making penis out of legos was hard, I will admit.”

Channing opened the car door. “Fine. If this makes me one of the guys, then I’ll do it.” He entered the McDonald’s hearing the muffled shouts and laughs of his teammates as they yelled words of encouragement to him.

The restaurant was almost empty. He approached the counter and glanced briefly at the overhead menu before starting to order. “I’ll have…” he began, before pausing and taking an exasperated breath. “A hundred large french fries. Please.”

“A hundred?” repeated the counter girl, who only looked mildly surprised, as if the large order did little to alleviate her boredom. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Channing responded.

“That’ll take a while, you know? Like, twenty minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

Channing paid with his credit card and then sat down in a booth. From his spot in the restaurant he could see his teammates waving at him and making funny faces. Timofey was pantomiming the consumption of french fries.

Finally, a box was brought to him, piled to the top with McDonald’s-logoed takeout bags. “Here you go,” said the counter girl. “Have a nice day.”


“Okay, now you gotta get in the bathtub,” LeBron instructed.

“I know, I know!” a naked Channing snapped, standing in the bathroom of Timofey’s apartment. He lay down in the bathtub as best as he was able, draping his arms over the sides so they wouldn’t get trapped.

“We shoulda brought more of the guys. It’s going to take forever to pour these all out,” LeBron observed. “Oh well. Here we go.”

One by one, the large orders of french fries were dumped onto Channing’s naked body. They had become lukewarm in the fifteen minutes since they had been purchased, so the only thing Channing felt was an unpleasant greasy sensation.

Finally, the task was complete. “Huh. I thought a hundred orders of fries would fill up the bathtub more than it did,” LeBron said, taking out his iPhone. “But what’s done is done. Okay, now say the lines that we rehearsed, dude.” The phone was pointed at the french-fry-covered Cavalier.

Channing rolled his eyes as he picked up a single french fry in his fingers. “I’m Channing Frye and I just loooooooove eating french fries,” he said in a sultry voice, taking a sensual bite off the fry. “If any guys want to come over to my place so I can eat their french fry, I would love to see them.” He rolled over so that his bare rump was sticking in the air, then buried his face in the mound of fried potatoes.

“This is so gay,” Timofey snickered, reaching over and grabbing a handful of fries from the tub to munch on.

“I think we got it on the first take,” LeBron announced. “You can put your clothes back on now. Nobody wants to see your ass anymore.”

Channing angrily threw his clothes on over his greasy body. “I hope this means that you pass me the ball in games now,” he said before walking out of the apartment.

As soon as Channing was well out of earshot, LeBron dialed a number on his phone. “Yo, DownToBuck. I’ve got a video here that might interest you…”

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