Casually running his hand over the smooth metal of the home-built contraption that was strapped to his chest underneath his baggy hoodie, Davis Bertans waited quietly in one of the numerous hallways of the Capital One Center. The one he was positioned in led directly from the visitors’ locker room to the parking area for their team bus, and his hiding place behind a dumpster ensured that nobody would see him unless he wanted them to.
Davis mentally ticked off the Clippers’ players in his mind as they walked past. Most of them were of no interest to him. There was just one player that he was interested in meeting, and it just so happened to be the player that Davis was most certain would be walking alone.
When Kawhi Leonard appeared at the end of the hallway, ears covered by headphones and looking at his feet as he walked, Davis prepared to spring into action. Just as Kawhi reached the dumpster that had served as Davis’ perfect place of concealment, Davis leaped out to confront his foe, but he was disappointed when it took Kawhi a few seconds to even realize that anything strange had happened. When he did look up to see Davis standing there, he didn’t seem surprised at all.
“I hoped I would run into you,” Davis said with fake casualness, but he realized as Kawhi slid off his headphones that the Clippers’ star hadn’t heard him. “I hoped I would run into you!” Davis repeated.
“Okay,” Kawhi said in a flat voice, moving to the side so that he could bypass Davis and continue walking down the corridor.
Davis moved to the same direction to block Kawhi’s escape. “I really torched you tonight, huh?” Davis said. “But it was a good game, man. Nice going on the win.”
“Yeah, good game,” Kawhi said unenthusiastically.
“They don’t call me the ‘Latvian Laser’ for nothing,” Davis continued, sliding the pair of specially-constructed goggles over his eyes, the pair of goggles that was connected by a heavily-sheathed cable to the brick of scientifically advanced, high-energy machinery that was whirring lightly underneath his hoodie. “As you’ll soon find out.”
“What are those?” Kawhi asked, his eyes widening just enough to indicate that he might have experienced a slight amount of surprise at Davis’ unusual choice of eyewear.
Rather than answering the question, Davis reached into his pocket to flip a secret switch. Immediately, two bright-green jets of pure, condensed light burst forth from the goggles. Since Davis had been making eye contact with Kawhi, the lasers directly entered Kawhi’s eye sockets.
“AAAAAAAHHHHH!” Kawhi yelled as his eyeballs were incinerated in their sockets. Davis noted with a smirk that this was, perhaps, the most emotion that Kawhi had ever shown in his entire life, and only Davis himself was there to witness it. Kawhi, blinded, fell to his knees and started clawing at his eyes with his hands, but when Davis redirected his vision to account for his moving target, Kawhi’s attempt to protect himself only resulted in hs hands each having a perfect quarter-sized hole burned through them in an ironic imitation of stigmata.
Davis turned up the power setting on his device. It began to make a louder buzzing noise as it generated more and more energy. Now the lasers were a dangerous red color and easily bore directly through Kawhi’s skull to his brain. As a sickly mixture of liquefied, smoldering gray matter and retinal sludge poured onto the floor, Davis switched off his lasers and calmly started walking back towards his own locker room.
Stepping over Kawhi’s dead body, Davis paused and looked at the expanding puddle of cranial matter. “I wonder how they’re going to manage that load?” he asked rhetorically before laughing and continuing on his way.