The most un-bodyguard wackable crew leader in the entire mafia Assistant Coach FrizzleFry emerges from his office. It had been a crazy day, and once again his team was making major headlines. Once the shouting in the streets and in the mafia lounges had subsided, once the bullets stopped flying back and forth, once the craziness finally settled, Assistant Coach FrizzleFry stepped from his office where he had holed up for the day. Not in a cowardly fashion mind you, but to avoid any distractions while he was busy working on some important basketball paperwork. 

Hey everybody, just a few quick team announcements here, I’ll be saving the big surprise announcement for the end, so stick around. 

So as you all know, a decision had been made yesterday to make John my own assistant coach. There’s a bit of a long story there, and I promised to keep this announcement quick so no need to get into all of that. 

However in just a day’s time, he was dead. Struck down by StringerBell of the infamous Cantfindasuit bloodline, following in his father’s lethal footsteps. This whole Cantfindasuit family must be a bunch of die hard fans of HeadCoach’s team the JFMAST (our division rivals), because they seem to hate my team and exist only to shoot my assistant coaches. But then again what would you expect from a JFMAST fan other than neanderthal type behavior and poor sportsmanship. 

Prior to this, I was informed there was quite the outburst in a popular mafia coffee shop where Sunrise, who was unable to reach me via mail, decided the next best option was to tell me what he wanted to tell me in private in front of the entire mob, despite me not being present in the coffee shop either. Sunrise’s approach to conducting business was immediately met with retorts from some of my fellow Detroit athletes who were quick to have my back (Detroit sports culture), quick to step up to what they believed to be a threatening tone. All jocks, all athletes, and all ready to stand up for a fellow league member. I thank those that spoke up while I was not around. 

However as for Sunrise threatening me, actually nothing could be further from the truth. I have a good working relationship with Sunrise and he was not threatening me at all. In fact, Sunrise and I have developed our own evolved system of omerta, where we conduct our affairs out in the open for all to hear. Really it’s not anyone else’s business, and I’ve probably said too much already, but we speak in code so you guys wouldn’t know what we were talking about anyways. 

And finally, I’m pleased to announce that I am now able to change our team name again. So on that note ladies and gentlemen, I introduce my new and improved, rebranded team… The Detroit Dribblers!

The crowd goes wild as Minion runs out onto the court waving to the fans.

Whilst the budding friendship between yourself and FrizzleFry is something to admire, Sunrise, lets just be clear here. I don't know how they play mafia basketball in the New York crime families, but you can't use "customized" basketballs in the league around here. Think you can sneak a few undersized balls on the court to help Minion's 3 point shooting eh? Well you can't. Just because he's playing center, power forward and scoring guard doesn't mean you can bend the rules for him.

Anyway, I am glad to see the RIGHTFUL branding back for the 12th Street franchise. The Dribblers made a name for themselves in the Public Toilets and that heritage can't be thrown away due to the influence of one guy, regardless of how deep his pockets are. 

"Did Sunrise force you to make this speech? Blink twice if you are under duress. I am joking of course, unless that was two blinks... no? okay. I hope that the rebrand fits you well, as the previously best dribbler in all of Detroit I will be watching with a keen eye on how you boys are doing out on the courts." 

FrizzleFry, I'd like to ask why, as Sunrise's RHM, that you render me uninvited from this event? 

Your former assistant coach had challenged me to at least 3 duels. Goaded me in public, for the whole world to see. 

And now, you have the audacity to blame me for the little man not being able to hold himself or fight like a man. 

I think perhaps you should reconsider the way in which you conduct your tryouts. Until then, I'm imagining that your future assistant coaches will treat me with the same disrespect and invite me to duels also. 

It's a sad day when you have a long line of assistant coaches, all of who conduct themselves like street thugs. 

Poo on you Stringerbell.  That's what I have to say about that.  Don't think I didn't see your post-game remarks, I was handed some transcripts of you from the mafia lounge as well.  Cantfindasuit would be rolling over in his grave if he heard his offspring spouting off such gruetesqueries in a coffeeshop.  Not only did you rob me of an assistant coach, but you robbed the entire mafia of the much anticipated sitdown between John and Premeir, which would have been an event to marvel.  One could say you robbed Premeir as well.  Robbed him of an opportunity to speak his piece, as he has a lot of gripes to get off his chest; John Fareham, being ghosted by the Iron Bank, Russians, swallowing, all Prem's greatest hits would have been on display.  Not anymore though.  Not with you around striking down every Fareham you see wearing a slanted suit like some Constipated wannabe.  You robbed all of us from that.

In basketball, there's something called "being a sore winner".  That's what you proved yourself to be yesterday with your profane tirade in lounge.  It wasn't jovial, it wasn't good humour, and you didn't acknowledge such.  It was disrespectful and if you keep it up, expect your seats in my arena to be behind the biggest obstruction I can find, if I allow you into the place at all.

I was out all day yesterday. I was driving. I was thinking about mafia basketball. I got on the highway and I just started going, until I noticed this car following me. I kept an eye on it, got on the off-roads, and still it followed me. All of a sudden, it started honking, again and again and again, it sped up until it was basically touching my rear bumper. I didn't know what to do. Do I stop out here, in the middle of nowhere? The risk was too great. I kept going. We drove all through the night, neither of us ever lagging. In the morning, I pulled into a truckstop and entered the diner. My pursuer followed. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was Honesty. He was trying to show me a funny lounge comment. He was desperate, he clawed at me, he kept trying to begin his recital. I said, no! He started screaming them at me, one by one. I couldn't take it, I was being driven mad. Are they all just his own comments?! 

I leapt through the window, my girth easily taking a sizable chunk out of the side of the building. I slashed his tires, I got in my car and I drove again, all night, until I ended up here, at this team announcement. I don't really know what's going on. Is John dead?

FrizzleFry, does it really count if said assistant coach was the aggressor, goading me into a duel after numerous attempts. This is something that his family has been doing to mine for a long time. The only problem is, they've never been able to use a gun. 

That is a shame because to be honest, I love basketball. Although I'm not a great fan of the way you play it. 

That is a shame because to be honest, I love basketball. Although I'm not a great fan of the way you play it. 

Making a comment like this accomplishes nothing other than trumpeting to everyone that you don't know anything about sports or basketball.  But heckling from a fan is not of any bother to me, so I am unconcerned by this jab at my athletic prowess. 

I also wasn't bothered by the fact that you, just like your father before you, wiped out 50% of my entire roster in one fell swoop, leaving my team to look like some sort of Shannon-Whelan crew once again.  I just accepted that as two men settling their disagreements with the better man leaving as the victor.  After all, all is fair in love and basketball.

I wasn't even bothered by the pregame trash talking, as that sort of thing helps bring publicity to an event.  Nothing wrong with a little promotion, we love that sort of hype here in Detroit.

What did bother me though was the public disrespect that took place after John died.  Anything said prior to the duel by you, regardless of what it was, is fair game in my book.  But to then go into a crowded coffeeshop and say the things that you did as my right hand man John lie dead on the court, well, there was really no one else alive to be disrespected by those remarks other than me.  I can assure you if things had gone the other way, you wouldn't see me out saying anything of the sort about the fallen.

I'll do you the courtesy of not repeating your remarks here, but the price of that kindness is I would like an apology.  And I'd like it here too for all to see.  Feels fair, given that the offense was made for all to see as well.

Second request to kindly apologize StringerBell, for nothing more and nothing less that what I presented earlier, so that we can put it behind us like gentlemen and move on. 

Or, to the contrary, have the fortitude to come out here and tell me you are declining my polite request.  Otherwise, it's just me standing here on a basketball court looking foolish, and if there's one thing everyone has learned about Assistant Coach FrizzleFry over the past few weeks, it's that I am not a man who ever likes to look foolish.

No, the duel challenge was quite on purpose. 

If you acknowledged that you were out of line, those details never made it my way.  But regardless if you did or not, you didn't say it to me. Nor have you apologized for it.  Only for having me wait for your response, and only after I issued my challenge to duel.

I have a mole in the FBN who has undercover agents in the coffeeshops surveilling mobsters such as ourselves, documenting our conversations.  My guy gave me a timestamped dossier of what you said after slaying John (which I should add in fairness, was a stunning victory and display of athleticism). 

Assistant Coach FrizzleFry pulls a paper from his basketball shorts with the FBN letterhead on it and shows Stringerbell the transcripts.

Do you deny saying this?  If not, either apologize for it or accept the duel.  No need to bring HeadCoach or Sunrise or any other athlete from either of our cities into it.  Just you and me, mano el mano as EduardoCojones would say. 

Or, decline the duel, like JFMAST did when your father challenged him to a duel.  I recall that being considered wimpery when he turned it down. 

An apology won't cost you a thing though, and will put this to rest.  Up to you.