“You know what I could really go for right now?” Dirk Nowitzki said, slipping off his basketball shoes. “Ham. I don’t know why. After that practice, just feels like I really need to eat some ham.”
“YO, MONTA IS THE BEST AT EATING HAM THAT EVER LIVED.”
Dirk looked up at the excited face, surprisingly close to his own.
“I don’t uh…I don’t understand what that means, Monta.”
“IS THIS GUY SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?” Monta turned to Devin Harris, wandering by in a towel. “IS HE SERIOUS.”
“Uh, yeah, he seems to be serious,” Devin said. “He seems to seriously want some ham.”
“ARE YOU CHALLENGING ME? MONTA? THE GREATEST HAM EATER WHO EVER LIVED? TO A HAM EATING CONTEST?”
“Like…who can eat the most ham? Also, no, I’m not.”
“NAH MAN, NOT WHO CAN EAT THE MOST HAM. WHO CAN EAT HAM THE BEST. WHO IS THE BEST AT EATING HAM. QUALITY, ARTISTRY. DON’T YOU KNOW ANYTHING? YOU THINK JUST ‘CAUSE YOU’RE THE SOUL OF THE DALLAS MAVERICKS, YOU KNOW EVERYTHING I NTHE WORLD? ABOUT EATING HAM, FOR EXAMPLE?”
“THAT’S IT, MAN. WE ARE GOING TO THE HAM SHOP RIGHT NOW.”
20 minutes later.
“I’ll be damned,” Dirk said. “’The Ham Shop’”.
“I’ll admit I was a little skeptical when I saw the lights were off and that the windows had bars over them,” Devin said, “but it’s real alright.”
“YO, THAT’S TO PROTECT THE HAM.”
“Of course it is.”
Before they could stop him, Monta had grabbed a fistful of ham from the counter. What he did next was amazing. It literally can’t be described.
“My eyes are opened,” Dirk said. Devin was quiet, stunned.
“DAMN RIGHT, MONTA’S THE BEST.”