Dennis Schröder was walking by himself towards the court when a voice behind him said coldly, “I know what you wearing underneath your jersey.”
Turning around, Dennis saw Jusuf Nurkic standing in a shadowy corner of the corridor. “Yeah. My Under Armour,” he retorted, relieved to find that his voice didn’t waver from nervousness. “Real smart one you are.”
Jusuf’s blank expression didn’t change. “You know what I talk about.”
Dennis did his best to maintain an innocent face as the worry within him grew larger. “No, I don’t.”
“The Magic Lederhosen,” Jusuf said. “You wear them during game to gain advantage over us who are without magic garment.”
Dennis whipped around and bolted in the direction he had originally been headed. However, he was only sprinting for a second before he ran into the chest of the suddenly-appearing Kenneth Faried, who had emerged from a side hallway. Immediately, Dennis felt two sets of hands ripping at his shorts and jersey. “I’m not wearing any Magic Lederhosen you sickos!” he yelled, struggling to free himself.
Soon, his jersey was off and cast aside, revealing the thick brown fabric of the Lederhosen which Dennis was wearing. “No Lederhosen, huh?” Jusuf asked mockingly with a smirk. “The suspenders tell other tale, my friend. What you think we do to cheater, Kenneth?”
“I think we kick his ass, boss,” Kenneth replied goonishly. “Hold him up and I’ll bust him up reaaaal good.”
Dennis continued to struggle as he was picked up by his suspenders and held in an upright position, but he couldn’t faze the significantly larger and stronger Jusuf. When the first punch landed in his stomach, he squeezed his eyes shut and doubled over in pain. In his mind, he pleaded to the giver of the Lederhosen, “Herr Schrempf, rescue me from those who are jealous of the Germanic power of the hosen! Herr Schrempf, come to my aid!”
Dennis wasn’t sure if the words were thought or if he yelled them out loud. If he had spoken them, Jusuf and Kenneth didn’t indicate they heard anything as they continued to shout insults in between Kenneth’s warm-up punches.
Suddenly, the lights went off in a shower of sparks and there was a loud whoosh as a gust of wind blew down the hallway. Jusuf, caught by surprise, released his hold on Dennis’ suspenders; Dennis dodged out of the way just as Kenneth’s first face-aimed punch struck Jusuf instead. Jusuf clutched his jawbone, but he soon forgot his pain as a terrible sight greeted his eyes.
There, in the hallway of the Pepsi Center, the spirit of Detlef Schrempf floated high in the air, glowing like an angel. In his hands he held a very real-looking Uzi. “Guten tag, Herrs Faried and Nurkic! Guten tag!”
“Let’s get outta here, boss!” Kenneth wailed in a panic, clutching onto his teammate and beginning to run away from the horrible specter. But the gusting wind prevented their escape, and they tumbled back down to the floor.
“It is not permitted for non-Germans to touch the Magic Lederhosen!” Detlef bellowed. “Now you must receive your due punishment!” With no further words, he opened fire on the two Nuggets players, mercilessly filling their bodies with round after round. Dennis stood to the side and watched with mixed horror and delight; vaguely he noticed that the flecks of blood splattering from the two attackers were practically bouncing off the Lederhosen.
Thirty seconds later, Detlef appeared to have run out of ammunition, and he tossed the gun down on the floor. Now he turned to Dennis and smiled. “Now go out there and show the rest of the Nuggets swine what real German basketball is about.
“Danke schön, Herr Schrempf,” Dennis said, inclining his head slightly towards the ghostly vision. “A basketball players’ friend, makes you better ’til the end,” he recited from the fairy tale, but this time, he wasn’t talking about the Lederhosen: he was talking about Detlef himself.
Detlef seemed to understand the meaning as he waved good-bye. “Auf Wiedersehen, Dennis!” he said happily as he floated up towards the ceiling. Dennis waved back, and continued to wave long after Detlef had departed back to whatever realm he came from. After a minute, he looked down at the destroyed, gory bodies of Kenneth and Jusuf, then shrugged and continued on his way to the court.