D’Angelo Russell Career High 39 Points/8 Threes Full Highlights (3/1/2016)

D’Angelo Russell stood at the door, impatient. This was a nice neighborhood, in fact the nicest in the whole Los Angeles area, but still. He was an NBA player, and who knows what could happen to an NBA player standing outside at midnight. He checked his phone, thought about all the fun he could be having, celebrating his career high, and sighed. He was just about to turn around and leave when the door finally opened.

“D’Angelo! Glad you could come on such short notice!” Kobe Bryant said, smiling.

D’Angelo was struck by Kobe’s unusually cheery demeanor. “You okay, man? You seem a little… zoned out or somethin’, I don’t know.”

“Zoned out? But D’Angelo, it was you who was in the zone!” Kobe laughed at his own joke as the Laker rookie stared, dumbfounded. “Please, come in! Don’t mind Loofah, he’s a little skittish around strangers.”

A tiny white blur D’Angelo could only assume was “Loofah” darted out the open door and began gamboling around his feet, making high-pitched yipping noises.

“Loofah! Bad boy!” Kobe scolded, still smiling. “Congratulations again on your career high, by the way. It’s no eighty-one, but still, a fine effort!” Kobe laughed again. “Now, let’s head inside.” Grabbing D’Angelo firmly by the arm, Kobe led him into the entrance hallway.

D’Angelo couldn’t help but stare as Kobe guided him through the mansion. It seemed that it was constructed half of pure gold, and the other half of polished marble. He had been in other players’ houses, players who had made plenty of money, but he had never seen anything like this. There was no hint of tawdriness, only elegance with an air of extravagance. Kobe, if he noticed D’Angelo’s awed staring, said nothing as he continued through the labyrinthine corridors and endless vast rooms.

They walked for a long time, and soon, D’Angelo began noticing that he was seeing the same things again and again.

“Yo, Kobe, are we ever gonna get where you’re wanting to go?”

Kobe started, and shook his head as if to clear out unwanted thoughts. “Yes. We’re almost there. Just a few more turns…”

They rounded yet another anonymous bend in the hallway, and were faced with a dark wooden door without a visible handle. Without Kobe doing anything, the door opened, revealing nothing but darkness.

“This is my study. Please, join me.” Kobe said as he walked into the darkness. D’Angelo hesitated, then followed.


The two men sat at the fireplace in the otherwise darkened room, each in his own luxurious leather chair, facing each other. Loofah lay in front of the flames, keeping a close watch.

“I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant towards you, D’Angelo.” Kobe began.

“No problem, man. You’re Kobe, and I’m just, you know, a rook.”

Kobe shook his head. “You’re not just a rookie, and you know that. With your performance tonight, you’ve proven so beyond a doubt. Maybe I was distant because… I knew that this day would come, and I dreaded it. The day is upon me, now, and I feel the fear lifting…”

D’Angelo shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You sure you’re okay? It’s just one game, you’re still Kobe!”

“Yes, I am still Kobe. But for how much longer?” Kobe stood up, walked over to a cabinet, and pulled a large object out. “I need you to do something for me. Something important.”

“Sure, man.”

Kobe brought the chainsaw over to the fireplace. D’Angelo recoiled in horror. “I need you to use this, D’Angelo. I cannot stand in your way any longer. Use this chainsaw, and…”

“I ain’t gonna be a murderer! You crazy…”

“Let me finish!” Kobe commanded. D’Angelo immediately silenced himself, noticing something in Kobe’s eyes that he had never seen before. “Even I am not willing to leave this mortal coil. All I ask is that you chop of my right arm, precisely on the shoulder. I cannot be allowed to have the chance to hold you down again. Much is made of my ambidexterity, but with one arm missing, there is no chance that I play basketball again. Please, D’Angelo. Do this for me. Do this for Uncle Kobe.” The fire which reflected in Kobe’s eyes became brighter with the addition of tears.

D’Angelo sighed. “You want to do it here, or do you got a special surgery room in this nuthouse?”

Kobe smiled, relaxing back into his chair. “Here is fine. It’s at the center of the house; it’s unlikely that anybody will hear the deed being done.” He took the chainsaw, fired it up, and handed it to the rookie. “Have you ever used one of these before?”

“I can’t say that I have.” D’Angelo responded, cringing at the power he now held in his hands and at the thought of what he was about to do.

“That’s probably for the best. A few accidents will only improve the outcome.” Kobe rolled up his sleeve, revealing his bare right arm. “Remember, right on the shoulder.”

D’Angelo took a deep breath. “You really sure?”

Kobe smiled once again, the first which seemed truly genuine. “Yes, D’Angelo. I am sure.”

Kobe’s screams of agony soon mixed with Loofah’s panicked barks and the roaring of the chainsaw.

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