Tim Frazier, curious about the website that was up on his teammate’s phone, looked over Kelly Oubre’s shoulder with interest. “Yo, you ordering pizza for us?”
Kelly rolled his eyes, then returned his attention to filling out the online delivery form. “Obviously not. Nobody but me deserves pizza after how we played out there. It’s none of your business who I’m ordering pizza for.”
“I wanna see,” Tim said, sticking his head closer to the screen of Kelly’s phone. “Uh, you know the place you’re ordering from is in California, right? That’s gonna be a serious upcharge.”
With a frustrated look at his teammate, Kelly replied, “Well, moron, the places here in San Antonio aren’t going to deliver food to my mortal enemy who lives in California. Don’t meddle in things you don’t understand, kid.”
This explanation of the situation left Tim confused. “Oh. So you’re trying to apologize to Klay for punching him that one time by sending him free food?”
“Man, you’re a real idiot,” Kelly said. “I’ll lay it out plain and simple so even your little brain can understand it. Right now I have an order for fifty jumbo orders of extra-hot chicken wings ready to be submitted. Klay will receive all the food that he didn’t order but it will be already paid for by me so he’ll accept it with no question. Then, because he’s stupid like you, plus he’s probably high on marijuana right now, he’ll make an attempt to eat all the wings in one sitting. Unless his intestinal lining is made out of an advanced titanium alloy, the attempt will kill him, or at least make his trips to the bathroom extremely uncomfortable for the next two weeks.”
Tim processed this information for a bit, then replied, “But if you don’t have his address, how will the food get to him?”
Kelly sighed dramatically. “Do I have to explain everything to you? Right now I’ve just typed in the words ‘Klay Thompson’s House’ where you’re supposed to put the address. If this pizza place doesn’t know where that is, they’ll do everything they can in their power to find out. Remember, they think that it’s the real life Klay Thompson making a thousand-dollar order for buffalo wings. They don’t want to lose out on the potential of repeat business. Plus, they’re probably expecting a shout-out on his Instagram for being his number one chicken wing supplier.”
“You’re nuts, man. That’s never going to work,” Tim said, giving up on the conversation and turning to walk away.
“I used a prepaid credit card and a burner phone number for the order so they’ll never trace it back to me! I’m behind seven proxies right now!” Kelly yelled after his teammate. “We’re talking at least seven or eight hundred chicken wings! You’re telling me you don’t think he’ll die trying to eat all those?”
There was no further response from Tim, so Kelly returned to his phone. “I hate you Klay” he whispered to himself as he triumphantly hit the “place order” button.