Eric Paschall walked into the locker room, and, ignoring the jubilant reaction of his teammates to his entry, walked right up to where Draymond Green was standing.
“Sorry man, but the Draymond era of the Warriors is over.” Eric said to Draymond. “Coach hates you. He hates your lack of scoring ability and your pathological need to draw negative attention to the team with your antics. That’s what he told me after the game.”
“Don’t let one good game get to your head, rook,” Draymond warned.
Eric chuckled. “Just the first of many. But don’t let THIS get to your head!” Right as he said these words, he threw a punch which landed cleanly on Draymond’s jaw. Draymond was out like a light and crumpled to the floor as Eric smirked and his teammates gasped. While a few teammates went to check that Draymond was okay, Eric looked around to see where Klay Thompson was.
After finding him sitting in his locker, looking as shocked as the rest at Eric’s sudden violence, Eric went up to him. “Yo Klay. Guess who’s the new three-point specialist on the team?”
Klay looked afraid of what might happen to him if he didn’t say exactly what his teammate wanted to hear. “You are,” he answered nervously. “For sure.”
“That’s right. I am,” Eric said. “With my four three-pointers tonight, you have officially become irrelevant. Even when you come back from your injury, there will be no spot for you in the lineup. I will be occupying that spot with my elite three-point shooting. They might even call me ‘Klay Paschall’.”
“Totally,” Klay replied.
Eric shook his head with disdain. “You don’t believe me. That’s fine. You don’t have to believe me. But I’ll make sure that you never play in a Warriors uniform again.” Before Klay could formulate a response to this strange threat, Eric withdrew a claw hammer from his shorts and swung it twice at Klay’s exposed left knee.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” Klay screamed as he fell off his seat and on to the floor, grabbing for the knee which had been operated on for a torn ACL just six months prior. Some teammates went to stop Eric from doing any more damage, but they were dissuaded when Eric threatened them with the hammer. He returned his attention to Klay, who was crying and begging for help.
“No more threes for youuuu,” Eric taunted. “Now they all belong to meeeeee!” Two more hits with the hammer followed; Klay’s kneecap had clearly been obliterated and his surgically-repaired ACL was again in tatters. Breathing heavily, Eric left his moaning teammate on the floor and looked around the locker room again. “Where’s Steph?” he asked, not seeing the Warrior’s star player around anywhere.
Nobody answered. Eric went into the bathroom area and checked the stalls one by one. In the last stall, he found Stephen Curry huddled in the corner, looking frightened for his life. “IT’S MY TEAM NOW!!” Eric roared, grabbing the smaller player easily by the legs and dragging him out into the main locker area while he struggled.
“Don’t hurt me,” Stephen pleaded. “I promise not to return this year. I won’t even travel with the team. It will be your team. Just DON’T HURT ME!!!”
There were gasps of astonishment when Eric revealed the next weapon that had been waiting in his shorts: a loaded handgun. “You say you don’t want me to hurt you?” he snarled, audibly flicking the safety off.
Stephen was too shocked too run away. “Put that away, man,” he said shakily. “You use that thing, and your career’s over.”
“Those are the words of a scared old man who watches as his relevance slips away. My career’s only getting started,” Eric replied as he aimed and pulled the trigger. The single bullet hit its intended target: Stephen’s broken left hand.
“AAAHHH! MY HAAAAAAAAAAND!” Stephen yelled, cradling a hand which was mangled from the gunshot. Blood was flowing out of the wound and soaking the carpet.
Eric laughed. “Today marks the downfall of the old guard. The new dynasty has arrived. Its name is Eric Paschall.” He casually put the gun back into his pocket and started walking out of the locker room. Nobody attempted to stop him.
As he reached the door, he turned back around to address his teammates one more time. “Oh yeah. And happy birthday to me.”