How I Choose To Think The DeAndre Thing Went Down Last Night

Email this to a friend


How I Choose To Think The DeAndre Drama Went Down Last Night

In DeAndre Jordan’s Houston home, DAJ sits on his couch, surrounded by Blake Griffin, Chris Paul, Doc Rivers, Steve Ballmer, Paul Pierce, and JJ Redick.

DAJ: Guys, it was great of you all to come, I really feel loved. Chris, you groveling on the floor and even reenacting a State Farm commercial was a nice touch. There’s a lot of things I like about LA, but I’m really feeling the Mavs too.

Doc: (Rasping heavily) DAJ, we need you, let’s make a run next year, we are running out of time. Soon, I’ll be so raspy that no one will be able to understand a word I’m saying.

DAJ: Just let me think for a bit, I’ll let you guys know after I talk to Cuban.

Ballmer: Yeah…that’s not a chance we are willing to take *whistles*

Gunmen descend from ceiling, locking doors and shutting blinds. One gunmen starts shooting out lights and firing weapon in the air.

Ballmer: Hey, crazy guy, we said no shooting unless you had to.

Gilbert Arenas: Sorry boss, got a little excited.

DAJ: Is that….?

Ballmer: Yeah, we hired a crew of gunmen of Craigslist, and go figure, Gilbert Arenas is a hired gunman now.

Arenas: (Smiles manically)

Blake: Let’s make these next few hours go by smoothly. Who wants to start drawing up dunk plays?

Darkness starts to fall. Three figures move on the house, with two settling in behind a group of bushes with a window vantage point, while the third stumbles over next to them.

Mark Cuban: *Pulls out binoculars* God dammit, the fine was one thing, now this? I knew Ballmer would pull some sort of bullshit. God I hate Windows.

Dirk Nowitzki: *Pulls out binoculars* Remember when I took less pay so we could build a competitive team, and then traded for Rondo, and everyone predicted we would win the Finals? Better days man.

Chandler Parsons: *Pulls out enormous bottle of Grey Goose* Hey Cubes, you tabbed out right?

Cuban: Parsons when’s the last time you slept?

Parsons: *shrugs, chugs vodka*

Dirk: Blinds are closed, I can’t make out anything, what do you think they’re doing in there?

Cuban: I don’t know, but if we don’t get in there soon, you’re going to be stuck with Lin as your best teammate.

Dirk: He just signed with Charlotte.

Cuban: God dammit. Hey, check Parsons’ pulse real quick.

Back in the house, JJ writes down all of DAJ’s complaints on a white board as the group tries to reconcile. Austin Rivers, dressed as a butler and serving appetizers, trips and spills his tray everywhere.

Doc: *shakes head*

DAJ: I always feel like the third wheel.

Blake: We will split awesome dunks, 50/50.

DAJ: Chris is a dick.

Doc: Chris, stop being a dick.

DAJ: The new uniforms are terrible.

Ballmer: *stifles gasp, wipes tears* Well….I guess….we can make some changes…..thought they looked super sweet…..*trails off*

CP3: Let’s change it up…why do you want to go to Dallas?

DAJ: Well, I live in Texas.

Ballmer: We will bring Texas to you in LA. We’ll get you a Whataburger, transplant stickers and fire ants in your yard, and make sure the AC in your house undergoes random 25 degree changes in a very short amount of time.

DAJ: Home sweet home. But they’ve got Dirk and cap space.

Doc: Dirk is pushing 40, and have you seen these contracts this offseason? Everyone has cap space, the NBA is like the exact opposite of Greece right now.

DAJ: Idk, man. Paul, you haven’t said anything, and you’re new here, what do you think?

Pierce: *snores loudly, farts*

Ballmer: *whispers to Doc* You sure he can make it three more years…?

Cuban and Dirk are starting to panic, while Parsons has woken back up and is eating some jello shots he found in his pocket.

Dirk: It’s almost midnight, we’ve gotta do something. I can’t play with just Amare and Charlie Villanueva, I can’t do it.

Cuban: I’ve got an idea. It’s our last hope, but it just might work.

Dirk: Well, you’re a tech savvy billionaire genius, so I’m expecting something impressive, like hacking his home security or calling in a helicopter with the cast of The Expendables and Turtle clutching a celebratory bottle of Avion.

Cuban: Close.

Cuban pulls out a laser pointer and shines it through the window, catching the eye of Austin Rivers. Austin chases the laser pointer all the way to the door, and as it disappears, opens the door. The guards immediately open fire at a charging Cuban and Dirk.

Parsons: *Thinking the gunfire is the bass dropping* LETS RAGE!!!!

Parsons runs straight at the guards and incapacitates them by breathing on them. His .48 BAC knocks them out cold. Cuban and Dirk keep running, now face to face with the Clippers, and DAJ holding a pen and a contact.

JJ: Hey, I’m the only token white player here.

Dirk: I’m European, it’s different. You’re good.

Cuban: DeAndre, we had a deal.

Ballmer: *red-faced and dancing like an idiot* It’s too late, Cuban.

Doc: *utters something so raspy that no one can understand*

Pierce: *snores, mumbles “Yeah, I’m with KG, do you, fam.”

DAJ: Sorry Cubes, but I’m out. *signs contract*

Blake: Lob City!

Redick holds up Nerf hoop, CP3 lobs one up, and Blake dunks on DAJ.

CP3: *to DAJ* Gotcha bitch, see you next year. Go practice your free throws third wheel.

Image via YouTube

Email this to a friend


Log in or create an account to post a comment.

Click to Read Comments (6)