"Mr. Green how do you respond to reports that you operate an illegal dog fighting league during the off season," the reporter asks.
"The fuck," Draymond asks.
"Do you train dogs to fight," the reporter doubles down.
My phone starts blowing up with text messages. People asking if I'm seeing this. First Micahel Vick and now Draymond Green. Yes people, I'm watching. The whole country is watching. Draymond thought he was gonna be here to talk about free agency and they're asking if he's a dog fighter. This is crazy.
"Are you for real," he continues to be confused by the question.
"Do you feel dog fighting helps speed up the break," the reporter asks with a sly smile.
"Just because it's a break doesn't mean it has to be fast," Draymond argues. Does he think this is about a fast break? Is he that taken aback.
"Okay, what about the rumors of you training dogs to fight Mr. Green?"
"If the bitch act up kick her in the nuts but if it's a bitch, it ain't got no nuts."
"Are you referring dogs?"
"The only dogs I know is how we be dogging the ball on defense," clearly Draymond has lost it at this point.
"So no dog fighting. Would you be willing to take a polygraph?"
"The only poly is Polly Shore," Dramond smiles as if he's played us all for fools.
Before the next question can be asked Draymond jumps out of his seat and runs across the stage like someone is after him. I guess that's answer. Draymond Green runs a dog fighting ring. They're already uploading clips to the internet.
*Later That Night*
"CLEAN UP ALL THIS SHIT THEY'RE ON TO US," Draymond yells out to his gang.
"Y'all got any chocolate milk over here," a voice yells down to the basement.
"GET THE FUCK OUT KLAY AIN'T NOBODY GOT CHOCOLATE MILK AND TAKE A PIT BULL PUPPY!"
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You can purchase my novel Phantasmagorical on Gumroad for $2.99
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