At a private island somewhere in the Pacific…

Inside a large conference room in LeBron’s palatial island mansion, the King and Dwyane Wade sat at the head of a giant table. A series of chairs, each varying in comfort level, were spread around the table, placed horizontally.

LeBron: Damn, when are those guys gonna get here?

At that moment, his butler (Geoffrey from The Fresh Prince Of Bel-Air) escorts David Lee into the room.

Wade: Hold on, hold on. Bron, you didn’t tell me you were gonna be inviting white boys!

LeBron: I didn’t! Who’s this cat anyway?

Lee: My name’s David Lee. Great to meet you guys. I…

Wade: Hold on a second. Were you invited? (He holds up a fancy-looking invitation).

Lee: Um…no, but Amare told me it would be here today and that you guys wouldn’t mind.

LeBron and Wade: (Together, in an angry undertone) Amare.

Lee: Yeah, so…

LeBron: Geoffrey, escort this fool out.

Geoffrey: Right you are, sir. Shall I send the ladies he brought with him as well? (Two hot blondes walk into the room.)

LeBron: Wait a second. Whiteboy, who they for?

Lee: Well, Amare also mentioned you guys might be having a party after and I wanted to fit in cause, you know, I don’t have a posse and all.

(LeBron and Wade glance at each other).

Wade: Alright, you and the ladies can stay. (motions toward the most uncomfortable chair at the table in the corner).

As soon as Lee took a seat, Geoffrey opened the door for Chris Bosh, Amare Stoudemire, Carlos Boozer, Joe Johnson and Rudy Gay. Wade pointed to seats for Boozer, Amare, Johnson and Gay as LeBron greeted Bosh enthusiastically.

Bosh: Sorry we’re late. Someone (glares at Amare pointedly) blabbed to the media about our meeting so we had to cover our tracks.

LeBron: Amare, man, you really got to keep your mouth shut.

Amare: Look, guys, I’m sorry, OK? I just wanted people to think that, you know, I’m legit. I’m not just the guy who runs off Nash’s shoulder and does some badass dunks. I wanted to make myself sound important in the media so some GM would think I deserve a max contract on my own.

(LeBron, Wade and Bosh, sitting in the centre of the table, break out in laughter)

Wade: Yeah! And…and…(he tries to get it out through his laughter) and I’m gonna give my ex wife more money cause she spread some bullshit story that I fucked my girl in front of the kids!!

Amare: Seriously, guys…what’s so funny?

LeBron: (wiping tears from his eyes). Amare, dawg, there’s only three people at this table who’re gonna get max contracts. You ain’t one of them.

Wade: Yeah man, no offense, but I averaged more blocks than you last season. LeBron: Seriously, no team is gonna be stupid enough to throw $100 million at a big muthafucka who can’t defend a fence post.

Amare: Come on…

Wade: I’m serious. (looks at Johnson, Boozer, Gay and Lee) And that goes for you sorry sons-of-bitches as well. If you fools think you can ride mine and Bron’s coattails to a max deal and a ring, yeah, not happening. You can have one or the other. You can go get a max deal from a shitty team like the Timberwolves or the Clippers, or you can come join us for half that.

Johnson: Really? That sucks.

Boozer: Yeah, I was hoping I could stab Utah in the back like I did with the blind guy who owned the Cavs. I wanted the money.

Gay: Dang. I may as well stay in Memphis now.

Lee: I’ll take a pay cut to win…

LeBron: Shut up, whiteboy.

Wade: (tries to calm everyone down) Guys, relax, we’re all gonna get paid. Let’s focus on the real issue we’re here. How do we get the best deal for all of us that gets us money and rings?

LeBron: Let me just say something first, dawg. Boozer here, he fucked up. He could have played with me at Cleveland and we’d’ve won five rings by now, but he went to fucking Utah. Why the fuck would you go to Utah, Boozer?

Boozer: (unsure what to say) Um…the money?

LeBron: Geoffrey! (Geoffrey walks in) Give this fool a slap for me.

Geoffrey: Right you are, sir. (he walks over to Boozer and slaps him upside the head).

LeBron: I ain’t playin’ with you, man. You had yo’ chance, and you blew it. Go back to the Mormon pussy in Utah for all I care.

Wade: Now that that’s settled, let me ask. Are any of you willing to play for less than max to come play with one of us?

Gay: Where are you guys planning to go?

Wade: Me, I’m staying in Miami. Why the hell would I leave? Great weather, no tax, just cruisin’ down South Beach and checking out the ladies…why the hell would I give that up?

LeBron: Man, I’m not sure. I wanna stay loyal to my homies in Cleveland, but…New York, dawg. It’s New York. Hard to say no. And that Russian guy who owns the Nets? He offered me his yacht and my own private jet. Just as gifts if I sign with them. It’s hard.

Boozer: Man, I just want my money. I don’t care who or where.

Amare: Yeah, dawg, me too. It’s all about the Benjamins for Amare.

Johnson: I’d have to agree with Amare and Booz. I’m the oldest guy here – my next contract negotiation will be when I’m 34 or 35. No one’s gonna be giving me $20 million a year then. If I get sick of it, I can just ask to be traded.

Wade: (pulls out a calculator and punches some numbers) OK, by my math two of you can sign max deals with Miami and then I can resign, since they sent Cook to Oklahoma City. If Bron goes to New York, there’s room for one more max guy there.

LeBron: To be honest, man, I’m thinking about staying in Cleveland more than anything.

(Everyone at the table inhales deeply)

Bosh: Dawg…why?

Before LeBron can answer, Geoffrey returns to the room.

Geoffrey: Sir, there is a large German man standing outside and it has started to rain so he is quite wet.

LeBron: Show him in, Geoffrey.

Wade: (whispers in LeBron’s ear) You invited Dirk?

LeBron: (whispers back) Come on, you wouldn’t rather play with him than these sorry cats?

Wade: Good point. (Dirk enters the room, soaking wet).

LeBron: Sorry about leaving you hangin’, man. Didn’t realize you were coming.

Dirk: Well, I managed to give Cuban the slip.

Lee: Wait a minute. How come he’s an OK white guy and I’m not?

LeBron: Cause Dirk’s a German. If I didn’t invite him, he gonna go Hans Gruber on my ass. (Lee has no response to this point).

Wade: Anyway, all we managed to conclude is that these guys are all money-grubbing assholes.

Dirk: You know me, man. I don’t care about the money.

LeBron: Right. Cuban still has your parents?

Dirk: Yes. He’s letting me have this little ego-trip for media purposes, but if I don’t resign with him they’re screwed.

Wade: So why’d you come, man?

Dirk: Well, I was hoping to convince someone here to take a sign and trade with the Mavs. I made Cuban promise that he’s not going to kidnap anyone or have any faces broken. (looks at Amare) Still sorry about that, man.

Amare: (waves it off) It’s OK, dawg. Not your fault.

Wade: OK, is anyone keen to go to Dallas?

(moment of silence)

Gay: I mean, I’d be keen, but where’s the cap room coming from?

Dirk: (shrugs) Hell if I know. I’d imagine he’d be doing some kind of deal that would involve Caron, Jet and other spare parts. You reckon Wallace would go for that?

Gay: Are you kidding? That guy’s dumber than a hamster. He’d eat that up.

(Before Dirk can respond, he gets electroshocked).

LeBron: You OK, dawg?

Dirk: Yeah. Cuban stuck this ankle bracelet on me when I was sleeping. He’s lost it.

Boozer: Did he ever have it in the first place?

Dirk: (laughs) Yeah, but what can you do? (he mumbles something along the lines of “Fucking Bucks” under his breath)
Wade: Aight, now we got Homo sorted. (Dirk gets electroshocked again)

Dirk: Sorry guys, I better go.

LeBron: It’s all good, man.

Dirk: Rudy, should I tell them you’re keen?

Gay: Would I have to wear one of those?

Dirk: Probably.

Gay: Would I get a max contract?

Dirk: If the trade works, yeah.

Gay: I’m in.

LeBron: Geoffrey, please escort Mr Nowtizki out and make sure he has a drink before he leaves.

(Dirk leaves with Geoffrey).

Wade: OK, we got Homo sorted. Chris, what are you thinking? You’ll get a max deal wherever you go. Wanna come to Miami?

Bosh: Man, I don’t know. I know I’ll get a max deal, but, you know, I don’t want to be your or Bron’s sidekick. I want to be the guy.

LeBron: Chris, dawg, I love you and all, but be realistic. You’ve been the man up in Toronto since Vince left. Have you ever won a playoff series?

Bosh: Yeah, but it’s not like I’ve had that many good guys around me.

Wade: Chris, your teams have been light years better of what Bron’s had, or I’ve had in Miami the last couple of years. Hell, in the playoffs in Boston I almost asked Spoelstra to call 911 to come resuscitate Jermaine O’Neal.

Bosh: OK, OK, fine, it’s my ego, whatever. Give me JJ or another good guy in my backcourt, I’ll make the playoffs for sure.

Wade: So you don’t want to come to Miami?

Bosh: Nah. If Bron’s not going to New Jersey, I might go there. That Russian dude seems pretty cool and I like the idea of having my own jet.

LeBron: Dawg, he ain’t giving you your own jet. You’re lucky if you get a Cessna.

(everyone at table laughs politely).

Bosh: Whatever. I’m gonna give him a call afters and accept. (looks to Johnson and Boozer) You guys keen to come with me?

Johnson: Sorry dawg. (shakes his head). I got an offer on the table from Chicago. Figure I might take it – Rose and Noah are a step up from Bibby and Smith.

Boozer: You mean they’re gonna take the shots you won’t in the second round.

LeBron: Shut up, traitor. JJ, so it’s Chicago for you then?

Johnson: Yeah.

Boozer: I might go to Chicago as well. Me, JJ, Deng, Rose and Noah would be a pretty kickass starting 5.

Amare: So none of y’all planning to go to New York?

Wade: Why, are you?

Amare: Hell yeah! They gonna give me a max contract, I can go play for D’Antoni again and get my stats back up, it’s New York!

LeBron: Only you won’t have Nash passing you the ball off the pick and roll this time.

Amare: (silenced, as Wade laughs). Well, it’s gotta be better than Phoenix right now. I actually have to play de-fense there!

Wade: OK Amare, you go to New York. That would be us, but I still don’t have a decent partner. (turns to Lee in the corner) Whiteboy, what do you wanna do? You’ve been up in New York for this long.

Lee: Yeah, New York City’s pretty cool, but I was the guy last year and got my stats and we sucked ass. I’d like to actually win for a change.

Wade: (smiles) I like you, Whiteboy. Wanna come play in Miami?
Lee: (stunned) For the Heat? W-with you?

Wade: Yeah with me fool! The clubs are sick even for you white boys and the ladies are the best. Course, you still ain’t getting max money…(but Lee passes out as LeBron’s mobile rings, and he answers it and starts talking) Geoffrey, can you fix this dawg up with a drink?

Geoffrey: Certainly, Mr Wade.

Wade: OK, so that’s us. JJ and Booz are going to Chicago, Amare’s going to New York, Chris is going to Jersey, Homo to Dallas, Whiteboy to Miami with me and Bron’s staying. (As he finished, LeBron got off his phone)

LeBron: That was Jesus.

Bosh: Christ?

LeBron: No, Shuttlesworth.

Bosh: Oh. (looks chastised).

LeBron: I explained the sitch to him. He says he’d be keen to go play in Miami for one last ring. You keen?

Wade: Hell yes. I’ll call him later.

LeBron: OK, I guess that’s it?

Wade: Yeah. Guess the summit’s over.

LeBron: Great talking with you guys. Now it’s time to party.

Gay: Great, I got my suit in the jet…

Wade: Who says you invited?

LeBron: This is a party for max contract players and ladies only.

(As he spoke, Wade flicked a switch and the chairs with Johnson, Boozer, Amare, Gay and Lee all fell through the floor. They eventually found themselves falling through a tunnel which ended at the outside entrance of the mansion.)

Amare: Dang.


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