“Hold on, Crashout Markus, we need to just chill for a minute. Let’s just wait here and think for a second. I think the Psych Hold People have stopped following us.”
“Crashout Sister, you know the PHP have trackers that they injected into our bloodstream the second that they took us in, right? They will ALWAYS follow us! We can never stop running! Quick, let’s go! I think I heard one of them over there. The same one who is always finding us! Hurry! We have to go!”
“No! Goddamnit will you just listen to me FOR ONCE Crashout Markus?!?! Can you just trust me this one time?! There! That bench over there! Please, just hold my hand and let’s walk over to that bench and wait! The PHP aren’t following us, I’m sure. I can’t explain it. I just know in my bones that we’re safe. Please, Crashout Markus. Somethings telling me that we just have to stay here for a minute.”
“Goddamnit, Crashout Sister, I love you but we can’t die. That’s exactly what they’re going to do to us when they find us. They won’t use all of their brainwashing chemicals that they stuck in us last time. This time, they’re going to beat us with clubs. They’re going to knock us unconscious. They’re going to knock me out first so that you’ll be all alone and then they’ll knock you out. Then they’ll rape you. You can’t be raped, Crashout Sister. I won’t allow it!”
“SHUT UP! Goddamnit, Crashout Markus! Sit the fuck down! Jesus is speaking to me. And he’s telling me that we need to stop running for once. That if we stop running right now, everything will be ok. That everything will be alright.”
Crashout Markus and Crashout Sister both stop scurrying around the streets of the Tenderloin neighborhood in San Francisco. Just long enough to find a respite from their constant delusions of the benevolent medical workers who supervised them during their psychotic episodes. For one brief moment in time, they can both see.
Crashout Markus found Jesus (Malik Monk), and Crashout Sister found some time to paint a picture of a dementor sucking the soul out of a 6-year-old girl walking to school. Just in time to respectively buttfuck the Shadow Manager and John, and to lowkey scam my dad into paying 3 thousand dollars for a painting in the hopes that it will help his daughter turn back into the daughter he thought he had before her “big break”.
Really, it is such fucking bullshit that Crashout Markus rode Malik Monk, Sam Hauser, and Coby White to an absolute railroading of John and me. Just ridiculous. Fuck this season. Fuck how I have to write this bullshit after getting my shit rocked by the flukiest of flukes. Watch, guys. Crashout Markus’ roster is going to go right back to the outhouse with injuries. Aaron “Nagini” Gordon already has a hamstring injury again because the retarded Nuggets front office allowed him to play in a regular-season back-to-back. Giannis has been declared out for the rest of the fantasy season. Sam Hauser is going to go back to riding the bench. Seriously, it’s so fucking stupid that Sam Hauser actually decided a matchup. I’m pissed.
This week is going to be bad. It’s what happens after John, and I get our shit rocked by Malik Monk and Sam Hauser. For John, this week is going to feature a lot of “business scouting” and “productivity planning” where he feeds into his fantasy that he will ever escape the golden handcuffs of the family business with the cheap domaine hit of videos with online business gurus explaining how they replaced their W-2 income with consistent business income through explaining “Agentic Workflows” to businesses who only understand “AI” through the cable news programs that mindlessly woof about how no one will ever get a job again in five years.
For me, getting buttfucked by Crashout Markus means that I’m going to goad people. People who are nothing but nice to me. I’m going to say the things that I believe will hurt them the most. Because I got ran through by Malik Monk and Sam Hauser. I’m going to call John fat, lazy, and stupid even though he is the hand that feeds me. I’m going to tell him that he’s already handcuffed to the life of an indebted legal slave and that all of his Parisian fantasies will stay exactly that. I’m going to tell him that he’s a 32-year-old with a roommate (shout out John’s Roommate, we’ll get to his demise shortly). I’m going to tell John that if he really loved his significant other, he’d find a way to not be so fat. That he’d find a way to be rich for her.
After I’m done burning the bridge between Fijian Fantasy and the Shadow Manager forever, I think I’m going to delightedly trigger my dad by calling the Sacramento “Kings” the Queens (that’s disparaging to faggots), drop a lot of real-deal N Bombs (we’re black but he still doesn’t like when I do that), talk all sorts of shit about how his mom (who’s white) is fat, lazy and stupid (just like John!), and just rode dick to economic “comfort”. I’m going to say a bunch of Trumpian nicknames (Sleepy Joe, Crooked Hilary) and get him all riled up about Trump. He loves getting riled up about Trump. Pussy. What’s next after getting him turnt off blacks, fags, and Trump? Maybe his law school debt that he hasn’t paid in 40 years. He’ll love that. Oh, and taxes that he thought could be optional after deciding to not be a state employee. That will really get him going. Now, dad usually doesn’t get as excited as he does for the other things when I start talking about how most of the old people need to be put down, but I’ll throw some of that in for good measure. It’s been too long since I’ve seen the look in his eye that tells you that he’s disconnected from reality. Like father, like daughter.
Fucking Malik Monk and Sam Hauser. Goddamnit.
General Week 14 Notes:
- Crashout Markus laid down a railroad track and ran a train through Shadow Manager (and John). Highkey, Shadow Manager was pretty shrewd on the free agency pickups but it didn’t matter. Crashout Markus had a hot week and wasn’t going to be denied. The Sacramento Queens decided to showcase Malik Monk so that they can trade him to a real team and the world can be reminded that Malik Monk is a real-deal playoff performer. We can’t wait until Malik is traded to Toronto! Or to the Nuggets for Christian Brawny lmao. Vivek is dying to trade Malik Monk for an injured conjuring from the Dark Lord.
Guess what guys, Devin Booker is injured! He was actually injured during a game that he managed to make five 3’s which was probably the total amount of made threes that he had for the past 3 games combined. Highkey, John and I might be better without Devin Booker to tank our FG% and get 5 turnovers every game. Why don’t we have Collin Gillespie? Colin Gillespie is better than Devin Booker but Devin Booker is classically handsome so we all ignore that basic fact of life. Hey guys, remember when Chris Paul took the Suns to the Finals and Devin Booker got all the credit? John and I forgot that before the draft this year. I fucking hate our team. It’s just so shitty. Why can’t we have “Selfish” Shai Gilgeous like last year? Life isn’t worth living if we don’t have Selfish Shai on our team. Life isn’t worth living when we don’t beat the brains in of everyone in Fijian Fantasy. This is so fucking stupid.
- David beat Nathan 6-3. Maybe David can be a serious team now that LeBron and Lord Luka are playing consistently?!? Really?!? Is David making the playoffs?!?!
- Patrick took out the Mossberg, pumped once and blew Token’s head off. On MLK Day, games started super early. And it was a Monday. Did Token set his lineups that day? Of course not. Token needs to be replaced in the league. I know that I call for a bunch of people to be replaced and it routinely blows up in my face, but Token has routinely not set his lineups for 2 years. I think we’ve had enough affirmative action, George.
Oh, and Patrick’s team is a goddamn wagon. It’s because somehow he’s riding the tanking Jazz. It’s crazy.
- Cream Team clapped Monkey Mikey. What did you think would happen? Cream Team is an actual team filled with actual good players (so, not Devin Booker) and Monkey Mikey pissed away a win against the smoke-and-mirrors team that John and I own and operate. Of course Cream Team was going to bulldoze Monkey Mikey. Cream Team has Deni “Jew” Avdija!
- Brett beat Professional Basketball Thinker Matthew Huang “PBTMH” 8-1. Brett actually also forgot to set his lineups on MLK day just like Token. Obviously it didn’t matter at all. Is Brett finding a way to not fuck up having Selfish Shai and Tyrese Maxey now? John Collins has been good, recently! I don’t know. Brett lost Jimmy Butler. PBTMH has been dying to have a terrible week since Nikola “The Dark Lord” Jokic has been injured. Guys, I had a nightmare that the Dark Lord wasn’t progressing in his knee injury recovery and that we wouldn’t get to watch him exact revenge on the stupid Thunder and the dipshit refs! So scary!
- The score says 6-3 but George had 872 points to the 482 for John’s Roommate. George is fucking killing it in free agency. Grayson Allen (better than Devin Booker), Naji Marshall (John is always creaming his dick over Naji Marshall but never gets off his fat ass to actually add him), Max Christie (not for the game against the Knicks though), and who knows where De’Anthony Melton is going! Jesus Christ, and Immanuel Quickley has been his best player! Just sick.
AWARDS!
Award for Person Who Made Shadow Manager Look Like A Complete Buffoon:
- Crashout Markus.
It’s just so bleak right now. It hurts. I hate this.
Award for Most Incompetent Owner:
- Token.
When you don’t set your lineups, you get this award. Brett dodges this because he won 8-1.
Award for Most Impressive Team:
- Patrick.
Sometimes when I’m looking for things to do besides have Claude do my job as a No-Dick Software Developer, I look at Patrick’s roster. It’s scary. Keyontae George has been the best pick of the draft. Somehow, Patrick is expertly farming the Wizards and Jazz for their stats (Kyshawn George, Alex Sarr, Nurkic, Keyontae). Andrew “Maple Jordan” Wiggins is proving Brett a soothsayer for saying that he was “good value” during the draft. I mean, De’Aaron Fox, Michael “Boy Toy” Porter JR, and Karl “Kovid” Towns have been pretty disappointing recently but they’ve all been better than Devin Booker and these have been down weeks for those aforementioned three. Oh, and there’s Donovan Mitchell just sitting there being the best shooting guard in the NBA. So yeah, Patrick’s team is lookin’ real thiccy right now. I’m jealous. Call Jesus because I’m coveting my neighbor’s wife right now.
Award for Biggest Surprise:
- John’s Roommate!
But for being so terrible. I guess that John’s Roommate was building a house on the sands of time by relying on Kel’el Ware to be his best player. Erik Spoelstra can’t wait to trade that nigga. Kel’el is Erik’s version of Kum Bucket Kuminga. Except Kel’el is really good. I guess John’s Roommate is just having his time being hopelessly injured right now. We all have been through that but John’s Roommate is having that dance right now.
Award for Biggest Dipshit:
- Shadow Manager.
For losing so badly to Crashout Markus. Not anything I could do about it. I was going to eat that dick. But I’m getting this award because I feel like I won’t ever know what happiness feels like again and it’s because I didn’t have the courage to stand up to the tyranny and give John the strength to draft Tyrese Maxey over Devin Booker. I saw how Tyrese was making the Knicks feel utterly hopeless during the playoffs but I didn’t stand by my scouting. I let the bullshit get in the way. I let our predisposed proclivity towards attractive people cloud my judgment when I KNEW that that Suns’ Finals run was because of Chris Paul! Goddamnit! It’s not John’s fault. It’s my responsibility to remember things and operate with mental clarity.
Award for PMoose:
- PMoose.
Hey, PMoose, 2 years ago you had Victor Wembanyama and Lord Voldemort on your team and you STILL DIDN’T WIN. Who cares what you’re doing this year? Who cares what you’ll do ever again? Not me! Not anyone with a brain! Your team doesn’t matter because it has you, and you screwed up having Wembanyama and Lord Voldemort. There is no amount of talent that you can not RUIN. Gfy.
Award for Token:
-Token.
Token, you don’t even set your rosters. Can you just quietly never respond to George’s request that you join the league next year? I want to replace you with someone who has the capability to own and operate a fantasy basketball team with effort. Nevermind acuity. Just effort. Something your black ass have never done for 2 years. And last year you did that retarded trade where you sent away Jayson Tatum and Rudy “French Rejection” Gobert. You don’t set your lineups and I have to worry about Brett taking advantage of your retard ass in trades. You fucking suck. You’re terrible. Please leave. You suck, nobody likes you, and you’re gonna get AIDS.