Zombies, Monsters, and Robots vs. Dwight Howard, Sources, and Twitter

apocalypse 3

 

It’s Friday afternoon.  Gary and I are sitting in our office in Chicago, IL.  We hang over our smartphones for anything and everything related to Dwight Howard and his decision.  I’m a sad Mavs fan because Mark Stein has already reported that Dallas is out of the running.  Gary, on the other hand, still has his hope.  This is the hope that’s getting us through our boring Friday afternoon and…

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

 

“What was that?”  I ask.

Gary is silent.  He stares at the window.

“Dude, I didn’t mean to say that Harden is a flopper. I’m sorry!  Would you let it go?  Gary…?”

Gary is staring out the window and sees it.  Coming off the coast of Lake Michigan is the biggest mass of anything he’d ever seen.  Armies of robots, monsters, and zombies.  Behind all of them is a giant combination of all three.  That’s right… a GIANT ZOMBIE ROBOT MONSTER, also known as Zomonsterbot!

Zomonsterbot and his minions are heading towards the city, destroying everything in their path. Zomonsterbot breathes fire from his mouth and shoots acid out of his nose.  Buildings are in flames and streets are filled with ashes.  All we hear is screaming.

But there are more important matters at hand.

“Dude, how’s our 3G?” I ask Gary.

“It’s good.  Nothing on Dwight yet, bro,” says Gary as we both hide under the desk.  “I have an idea.  Let’s take shifts.  One person watches the window and the other watches Twitter.”

“That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” I reply.

I get up to look up to take the first window shift.  Pure madness has hit the streets of Chicago.  People are screaming as a river of acid begins to pour down Michigan Ave.

“Anything?!” I yell.

“No!  I’ll let you know,” replies Gary.

Just then a street sign crashes through the window, badly cutting my arm.  Gary and I are screaming all sorts of profanities as TWO ZOMBIES crawl through our window.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH” says Gary.

“I KNOW!  RIIIIIIIIGHT!”  I respond as the Zombies chew on what appears to be a foot.

“NOOOOOO!  SAM AMICK JUST JUST TWEETED THIS!” says Gary.

 

amick

 

“OOOOOOHHH!  YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!  THIS IS THE WORST!” I say in response to the tweet.

Just then the zombies lunge towards me.  I close my eyes, bracing myself for the worst (besides not getting Dwight Howard).  Just then, our Janitor, Fred, opens the door with a flame thrower and says…

“Not on my watch.”

He burns the zombies to the ground.

“Dang that was tight, Fred,” I tell Fred as I wipe off the blood from my arm.

“Thanks,” says Fred.  “I brought you guys some weapons too.”

Fred hands us some nunchaku.

“Are you kidding me?”  asks Gary.

“No man.  Those can be really effective,” replies Fred.  “Hey, what’s the word on Dwight?”

“I guess he’s going to the Rockets,” I say.

Just then, the door flies open and two robots with laser beams for eyes walk in. They immediately laser beam Fred as he cries out…

“That was a really smart decision by Dwiiiiiiiiiight.”

Fred has died.

Gary and I slide under the robot legs and into the hallway.  We look to our left and see fifty more robots.  We go the other way down the empty hall towards the elevator shaft.  We are running as fast as we can as laser beams fly by us.

“DUUUUDE!  A BOMB!”  screams Gary.

“WHAT!? WHERE?!” I reply.

“A #Woj Bomb.  He’s saying that Howard’s agent, Dan Fegan, told him that nothing’s finalized,” Gary explains.

 

woj

 

“WTF!  So is Dallas in it?” I reply to Gary.

We stop.

“BRO!  Dallas was never in it.  They are a dying organization with an aging superstar,” says Gary, who has turned into a douche, apparently.

“Screw you dude!  Maybe he wants to play with a PROVEN winner and not a PROVEN flopper!  Also, why are you such a douche?” I nicely ask Gary.

We start running and get to the stairway before we are met by a two-headed monster!  I immediately nunchaku his face and he falls down and dies.

“Huh.  Easy enough,” says Gary.

We run down the stairs, hoping to lose the robots.  We are completely wrong.  Laser beams are still flying everywhere and we hear the screams of people being eaten by zombies.

“BRO!  Sorry I called you a douche about Dwight.  It’s just hard as a Dallas fan to accept that we broke up that title team for nothing!”  I yell as I hear a man cry for his mother.

“It’s ok, dude.  I’m sorry too,” says Gary.  “There’s no time for apologies, though.  Daryl Morey just tweeted that he hasn’t heard anything either.  But everyone else is saying he picked Houston. See!”

 morey

 

“WTF IS GOING ON, DUDE!  THIS IS RIDICULOUS!” I scream.

We reach the ground level and go out the back door.  Monsters and zombies and robots are everywhere.  The giant Zomonsterbot is using buildings like baseball bats to tear down other buildings.  Complete madness!

We start running, dodging flames and laser beams and acid.  Gary decides that we should run to Navy Pier because everybody hates that place.

“OH MY GOSH! LOOK!” says Gary.

I look up and see Zomonsterbot tear off the Chicago Bean and throw it into the Sears Tower.

“HOLY CRAP!” I scream.

“No!  Not that!” yells Gary. “Chris Broussard just tweeted that Dwight Howard is in LA and is now 50/50!”

 

broussard

 

“WHAT THE HELL  IS GOING ON!?” I scream.

A monster takes a swipe at me and I knock his ass out with a nunchaku move.

“WHAT A MESS!” I scream as I gaze upon the wreckage of the day’s events.

“I know.” says Gary.  “JUST MAKE UP YOUR MIND, DWIGHT!  It’s NOT that hard!  WHAT’S HIS PROBLEM!!!”

“Maybe it’s not Dwight’s fault!” I scream as we continue running.  “Maybe it’s the media’s fault for reporting on crappy sources.  I mean, Morey and Fegan said they hadn’t heard anything yet but everyone else is reporting he made a decision.  Maybe the media was fed crappy information!”

Gary shrugs in defeat.  I can tell it doesn’t matter why there is no answer.  He just wants Dwight Howard in Houston.

We make it to the bank of Navy Pier.  As we suspected, nobody is there.  As we walk up, I place my hand on Gary’s back.

“Either way, there’s hope for your team,”  I say as I dodge a human arm.

Suddenly there is a rumble from beneath.  We grab onto the rails of the walls and brace ourselves.

“WHAT’S HAPPENING!?” I shout.

“Nothing yet.  They say Dwight hasn’t met with Kupchak yet!”  responds Gary.

Just then the whole pier is split in half as the giant Zomonsterbot emerges from Lake Michigan.  His green eyes meet mine as fire is seething from his nose.  Blood is dripping from his fingertips.  He is a machine that produces death and we are his next victims.  I shut my eyes and think of my family.

There is my wife on our wedding day.  She looks beautiful as she dances to “Dynomite” by Taio Cruz.  I can see my family waving behind her.  They are all there – to bid me farewell…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”  screams Gary!

“Goodbye Gary!  I’ll miss you, old pal!” I whisper as I brace myself for a similar fate.

“NO!  DWIGHT HAS OFFICIALLY TOLD THE LAKERS HE ISN’T SIGNING WITH THEM!  LOOK!” says Gary.

 

lakers tweet

 

“WHAT!?  ARE YOU SURE!” I respond.

“YES! OH GOSH, YES!”  Gary cries out.

“What if he changes his mind!?”  I yell.

This realization hits Gary.

“I don’t… I mean, he wouldn’t.  Would he?!”  responds Gary.

“Well, it has been the craziest day ever… on Twitter.” I respond.

A loud roar.  Zomonsterbot is not happy.  He lowers his face right in front of mine.  His skin smells like acid.  He opens his mouth and I’m positive he’s about to shoot fire at me and burn me to dust.  Here it goes…

“Hey, you don’t think he’ll ACTUALLY change his mind, do you?” asks Zomonsterbot.

Stunned, I look up and Zomonsterbot has his hands on his hips.  I feel I should respond.

“Uh… I… uh.  It kinda makes sense, right?” I respond.

“Jason…” says Gary in a very cautious voice.

“Yeah… Gary?” I respond.

“This is crazy,” says Gary.

“I’m aware of that,” I say.

“No dude.  Dwight Howard…. He just changed his Twitter profile.  Look!” he says as he shows me his phone!

 

dwight profile

 

“Whoa…!” I yell.

“LOOK ZOMONSTERBOT!” screams Gary as he points his phone towards Zomonsterbot.

“Well I’ll be damned,” says Zomonsterbot.  “The son-of-a-gun actually picked Houston.”

“Are you a Houston fan?” Gary asks Zomonsterbot

“Nah.  I’m a Hawks fan,” replies Zomonsterbot.  “That’s why I’m here today.  I’m pissed we might give Monta Ellis too much money.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry Zomonsterbot,” I reply.  “If it helps, I’m a Mavs fan.”

“You are?” he asks.

“I am,” I say.

“That’s just as bad.  You want to hop on my back and destroy every NBA city with hope?”  asks Zomonsterbot.

“Sure,” I say

“Wait…” says Gary right before he’s torched by Zomonsterbot.

Zomonsterbot and I finish off Chicago and make our way south towards Memphis, TN.

 

*Zomonsterbot and I remain friends to this day. 

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