“Remi, give me a status report on Joffrey Lauvergne,” Rudy Gobert commanded, sitting at his expansive solid-oak desk with a glass of fine Chardonnay resting in his long fingers.
The short, pointy-faced Frenchman consulted a folder in his hand. “Of course, sir, of course…let me see, Joffrey Lauvergne…” Remi murmured, paging through a large stack of stats printed from NBA.com.
Rudy was impatient. “You did not need to print all those out, you foolish little man. The tablet computer I have given you, a most generous and undeserved gift indeed, where did you put it?”
“Right here, Monsieur Gobert,” Remi said, dropping the folder on a nearby chair and pulling the device from his inner coat pocket. “I will look up the pretender Lauvergne’s stats right this very second!”
“Yes you will,” Rudy said, leaning back in his chair and admiring the view of his expansive garden. The only noise in the room was the sound of Rudy sipping his wine, and of Remi’s fingertips frantically swiping to and fro.
After a considerable delay, Remi said, “Sir, I have obtained the report that you requested.”
“Go on.”
“Lauvergne does not get much playing time in these days, sir. When he does appear in games, his shooting is poor, and he does not contribute much in other ways. Truly the opposite of a complete player like yourself, sir, who has this year proved to be not only an elite rebounder and shot-blocker, but a fine scorer and passer as well!”
Rudy smiled. “Your flattery is somewhat ham-fisted, Remi, but you know how it warms my heart to hear such things said about me, insincere they may be.” Remi’s expression changed from simpering friendliness to shock, and he began to rebut.
“But, Monsieur, I-”
Waving his hand dismissively, Rudy continued, “Don’t worry about that. Your report on Lauvergne’s recent impotence has pleased me greatly. My plans to neutralize him in other ways may perhaps have to be placed on hold, as he seems to be his own worst enemy.”
“Mentions of him on Twitter have dropped considerably,” Remi said, nodding his head. “Meanwhile, your social media impact continues to rate highly. After a brief mutiny, the people of France are once again on your side.” The small man, assuming his job complete, turned to leave.
“Do not depart just yet, my little Remi,” Rudy said, setting down his glass and placing his chin in his hands. “I want you to tell me about…Boris Diaw.”