Intercepted Transmission

--Douglas. I am not happy about this.
--I'm sorry, sweetie, there's nothing I can do about it.
--Don't you "sweetie" me. A man would do something about it. Chris Webber would do something about it.
--Honey, you know as well as I do that players have no control over a trade. If the Kings want me to go to Orlando, I have to go.
--Douglas, I have spent considerable time and energy on establishing myself here as a force with which to be reckoned. Do you think I'm going to give all that up just because you can't emerge as a star of the same magnitude?
--Sugar-puss, listen. The Magic are a much better team than the Kings. They're giving up two players for me, even though I am one of the most frustratingly inconsistent players in the NBA. It's a step up, professionally and reputationally.
--Douglas, what were you before I pulled you up by my bootstraps at Pepperdine?
--A ball of potential with no direction.
--What are you now?
--[A swingman who doesn't swing, a laughing stock, a dude so lame that even beer-bellied internet assholes feel free to take pot-shots at me with impunity. And it's all because of my devotion to you, and your campaign to make sure I'm under lock and key every minute of every day.] An NBA star, dear.
--Okay then.
--...
--I guess it is kind of impressive that you are worth two humans, even if one is Cuttino Mobley and the other one is injured.
--I know, right?
--And Orlando is much more interesting than Sacramento.
--You're bigger than this town, honey. I'll take you to Disney World every day of the off-season.
--Okay, let's pack.
[smooches. end transmission]