After his occult ritual had been interrupted by his coach Steve Kerr, Klay Thompson walked from his front door back to his living room, but now his focus was lost, and he didn’t remember where he had left off. His goal had been to use the “portal potion”, a bottle of drink procured from a mystical man outside the public library, to create an interdimensional portal that he could use to rescue his teammate Stephen Curry. Now that he had just been informed that Stephen had returned from a dimension-violating journey of his own, Klay knew that it was no longer imperative that another portal be opened, but Steve’s dismissive attitude towards Klay’s efforts made him want to succeed simply to spite his coach.
As he thought about the situation more, his envy of Stephen only grew. Not only had Stephen mastered the arcane rituals necessary to reforge the fabled Amulet of Three-Point Shooting, the original of which having been lost after the two of them had tasted of its intoxicating power, but he had also become learned enough in the occult arts to travel to dimensions that mankind was never supposed to visit. Meanwhile, Klay was just the bumbling sidekick, using Google Translate to come up with Latin words for incantations, never smart enough to do anything important, always getting in the way while others claimed the glory for their own.
But how could he possibly learn the things that Stephen had learned? The books he had gotten from the library had been worse than useless. They had been fraudulent. Klay knew that true sorcery was attainable, Stephen was living proof of that, but the knowledge of how to do so was locked so deeply in the figurative archives of humankind’s collective learnings that Klay didn’t know how he would ever be able to access it. Was he doomed to forever be a spectator in Stephen’s grand plans of three-point domination?
There was no point worrying about it any more that night. He turned all the lights back on and was about to put his bong away when he remembered that he still had to eat dinner. As was his custom, he pulled up the Pizza Hut app on his phone and re-ordered his favorite order, a large pepperoni and bacon pizza with extra cheese and a side of chicken wings. The bong would heighten his enjoyment of the low-quality pizza as it always did.
Thirty minutes later, the food had arrived. When Klay answered the door, his first thought was, “Man, this delivery dude looks a lot like Kerr.” The similarities were uncanny, but Klay knew that Steve had better things to do with his time than deliver pizza for meager pay and inconsistent tips. The second thought he had was, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t order a drink.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t order a drink,” he said as he took the food from the man.
“I just threw that in there ’cause you’re one of our best customers,” the man said. Even his voice sounded like Steve’s.
Klay examined the unmarked bottle full of a liquid that was such a vibrant blue that it almost seemed like it was glowing. “It doesn’t even have a label.”
“It’s, uh, it’s a new Mountain Dew test flavor,” the deliveryman answered. “Top secret. Doesn’t have a name yet. Drink it if you need help with, you know, anything, it’s got herbal stuff in it that’s supposed to invigorate your brain cells or something like that. Anyway, have a good night.”
“You too.” Klay closed the door and, bypassing the dining room table, took his dinner to the couch. The mystery Mountain Dew flavor intrigued him, but he really preferred regular Mountain Dew when enjoying a slice or eight of Pizza Hut pizza. He swapped the two bottles out of his refrigerator and settled in front of his TV, looking forward to being able to think about something other this whole business regarding portals and amulets and occult rituals.
—
The next morning, Klay woke up sore from having spent the entire night on the couch. His TV, having never been turned off, had taken matters into its own hands and was showing some other sitcom after having run out of episodes of Park and Rec. Half a slice of pizza and one whole chicken wing were left over from the night before. That would be his breakfast, Klay decided.
The pizza could be enjoyed cold, but the chicken wing needed a few spins in the microwave before it would be edible again, as it had barely been edible the first time around. After lying on the couch for a few more minutes to scrounge together enough energy to rise, he gathered the old food and took it to the kitchen.
While the wing reheated, Klay looked in the refrigerator for something to drink. There, he spotted the bottle of unknown Mountain Dew. Vaguely remembering that the deliveryman had said something about the drink’s reinvigorating properties, Klay grabbed it and took a sip. When he did, he felt a strange tingling all across his body, like he was being subjected to a light electrical shock.
“Weird.”