“There’s been some kind of mistake,” the caller tells me. Just based on the urgency of the caller’s voice, and the timing of the call itself, the identity of the caller is clear: it is Dwyane Wade.
“No mistake, Dwyane,” I answer coolly, leaning back in my luxurious office chair and propping my feet up on my desk. “My channel is a channel for scrubs, and you’re…well, you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” Dwayne says angrily. “Enlighten me.”
I chuckle into the phone, and I can nearly taste Dwyane’s wage. “You’re not exactly a star anymore, let’s put it that way.” My kitty Japurri, seeing my state of reclination, hops onto my chest and curls into a purring ball. “Look on the bright side, though. You get the senior discount. First video’s free.”
“Watch your mouth!” Dwyane snarls. “If you don’t delete that video from your channel in the next 24 hours, my lawyers are coming after you. This is slander. This is libel.”
“Good luck with that,” I say. “I’m behind seven proxies right now. My physical location is unknown. Not even my lawyers know it. There’s no way to get me into a courtroom. I am untouchable.”
“I’m warning you…” he says, clearly frustrated with my unflaggingly calm demeanor.
I have grown tired of hearing his voice and decide to wrap up the call. “It was nice chatting with you, but these highlight videos aren’t gonna make themselves. Good luck with your farewell tour, old man.”
I end the call with Dwyane still screaming random threats into my ear. Setting the phone aside, I pick Japurri up off my lap and set him on the floor so I can resume work. Already, plans are forming in my mind of how to extract the most money from Dwyane as possible, and I, perversely, look forward to his next call.