A hooded figure walks into Starbucks in the shadow of Madison Square Garden. He scans the establishment, finds a well dressed African American man in a dark suit. The hooded figure ambles over. In one swift motion, he pulls the hood from his head and sits down.
FUHRY: Mr Carter, I presume?
CARTER: Zachary Carter, attorney at law.
FUHRY: You forgot "Knick Fan".
CARTER: I didn't forget. I wish I could.
FUHRY: Did you bring the document?
FUHRY: Don't look so down in the mouth. Things are going to get better.
CARTER: My career... will be toast.
FUHRY: C'mon, you've got money, man. What you need is a basketball team to root for.
CARTER: I don't know why I trust you to bring me that.
FUHRY: You've probably read my sterling analysis on Posting and Toasting.
CARTER: Yeah. Well, let's not overanalyze it. I've been in the desert for a month with no water, and you've got a crystal geyser in your hand. It's warm and it's just frickin' tap water, but I'll take it.
FUHRY: Let's do this.
FUHRY and CARTER get up from their table, leave the Starbucks, and walk accross the street to One Penn Plaza. They take the elevator to the 53rd floor in silence.
RECEPTIONIST: May I hel- Oh, hello Mr. Carter. He's ready to see you.
CARTER: Thank you, Elizabeth.
FUHRY and CARTER walk into JAMES DOLAN's office. A smiling DOLAN greets them.
DOLAN: Zach! What up, my man.
CARTER: You know, stuff. Hey, I found you a buyer for that guitar pick you've been wanting to sell on craigslist.
DOLAN: I don't understand why it hasn't sold. Helluva deal. I used that guitar pick when I ripped off the best solo I ever played. It's a special one, a magic, one, and I'd like to pass it on. But not for free. So, this fellow, he understands.
CARTER: I think so. This is Mr. Fuhry.
CARTER fidgets nervously. He's not one hundred percent sure that Dolan won't recognize the name - that Dolan hasn't perused the Posting and Toasting website.
FUHRY: Nice to meet you Mr. Dolan. I'm a big fan. I want to rip off a great solo, too.
DOLAN: Great! Now, I've come down in price. I thought $100 was fair, but I'll take $90.
FUHRY: We have ourselves a deal. But there's just one thing.
DOLAN: What's that?
FUHRY: I just would like for us to sign an authenticity agreement, a contract, just like a receipt, so that I have something to remember this awesome moment by.
CARTER: I've taken the liberty of drawing one up.
DOLAN: OK, I like a man that's not afraid to sign a contract. But don't come running to me for a refund.
CARTER: There's a no refund clause in the contract sir.
DOLAN: Excellent. That's why I pay you the big bucks, Zach. Where do I sign?
FUHRY: How about that little table over there?
DOLAN: Ah, the signing table. Good choice.
FUHRY, CARTER, and DOLAN walk to the little table and crowd around it. CARTER lays down the page, and DOLAN starts to read it.
DOLAN: Eh, screw it, I trust you Zach. Let's do this.
DOLAN signs the document, and then FUHRY signs, and hands over 9 crisp 10 dollar bills. CARTER takes out a stamp and notarizes it.
CARTER: Congratulations, Mr. Fuhry, you're now the owner of the Knicks.
DOLAN: The Picks.
CARTER: No, actually, sorry sir, the Knicks. You signed the document. See? Right here, you signed transference of ownership of the New York Knickerbockers to Mr. Fuhry here.
DOLAN: What? This is utter incompetence. You're fired, Zach. Fired!
CARTER: You can't fire me, Mr. Dolan, you're no longer my boss. Mr. Fuhry is.
DOLAN: What? I'll Sue!
FUHRY: Hey no problem. I'll have Elizabeth call you a limo to take you down to the courthouse. The limo's real nice. Top of the line Bentley limo.
DOLAN: Bentley? Nice. Okay. (he leaves).
FUHRY: Well, it's done. Where's the phone and the rolodex?
CARTER: Over there.
FUHRY: Thanks. (dials) Hello, is this Charles Dolan, Sr? No, this isn't Jimmy-boy. It's Fuhry. Jimmy boy just sold the Knicks to me for $90 bucks. Mmm Hmm. Yup. K'bye. (to CARTER) Ok, that's done. Let's see now......(dials again) Hi, Steve Mills? No, it's not Jamesy Wamesy. It's Fuhry. I bought the Knicks from Jamesy Wamesy. Yup. Tricked him, he thought he was selling me a pick. Yeah, I know. Anyway, Steve, you're fired OK? But you can keep your whole salary for the rest of the year. No offense. Alright. OK. Bye now. (hangs up and dials again) Hi, Glen, Glen Grunwald? No, it's not Mr. Dolan, I just bought the Knicks from Mr. Dolan for 90 dollars. Yeah, see, but the thing is, I got Zachary Carter to help me. If you had done that, your plan might have worked too. I don't know, the limo's taking him down to Newark, to some courthouse there. He won't know the difference. Anyway, Glen, I'd like to hire you back, can you come down to the office? What? You're where? Holy Shit! Do you know how to open it? OK, hold on.... (Fuhry reaches under the desk and presses a button. the floor opens up and Zachary Carter falls through.
CARTER: THANK YOUUUUUuuuuuuuuu!!!
FUHRY: Let me try this other button....
A Door opens in the wall and a disheveled, bearded GLEN GRUNWALD emerges into the light, squinting.
GLEN: Thanks. Fuhry, I presume?
FUHRY: Yup, welcome back aboard. How long have you been in there?
GLEN: Since they hired Mills. I've had food and water through a slot though. So I'm OK.
FUHRY: You got Internet in there?
FUHRY: So you know....
GLEN: Yup. You gonna fire Woody?
GLEN: Let me talk to him first.
FUHRY: OK, go ahead.
GLEN: I don't know his number.
FUHRY: You don't?
GLEN: Dolan kept changing it. He didn't like it when I talked to Woody.
FUHRY: Let's see, well, it's in the rolodex here. 1-212-FIX KNIX
GLEN: Damn! I KNEW it was something like that. (Dials). Hey Woody, it's me Glen. Glen. Glen Grunwald? Yeah, nice to hear your voice too Woody. Yeah, well as it turns out, I've been released. No, not from the team, from the compartment in Dolan's office. Yeah, actually this guy Fuhry, he tricked Dolan into selling him the team. So Dolan no longer owns the Knicks. Yes. Yes, that's what I'm saying. Dolan no longer owns the Knicks. Woody, don't - don't cry Woody. Yes, I realize that they're tears of joy. Pull yourself together man, Fuhry wants to fire you. Well, I told him let me talk to you first. Yeah. Listen Woody, remember when we talked about defense, and rebounding, and playmaking? Yeah. How you have to have the playmakers on the floor. Who are your playmakers out there now? Mmmhmm. Yup. Good! No, not him. Yeah, him. OK, so now who are your defenders. Mmmhmm. No, not Bargnani. I don't care what Mills said. OK, who else. OK, Hey Woody, there's two guys on your squad, one's kind of a doofy looking white guy, # 45. Yeah. No, he's not the ball boy, he's a defender guy. Mmmhmm. And the other guy, #23. No, Camby didn't shrink. It's not Camby. It's a guy named Toure Murry. He's a defender. Yes, really. Listen, man, I don't care what that guy that follows you around says. Dolan can't hurt you anymore, big guy. Just the play the playmakers, the defenders, and the rebounders along with the shooters all the time, OK Woody? OK. Ok Woody. Thanks Woody, you too. Bye. (hangs up)
GLEN: We should win 19 out of the next 20.
FUHRY: How do you know?
GLEN: Well, every time I talk to Woody we win at least 8 out of the next 10.
FUHRY: Awesome! Hey what about the Lowry trade?
GLEN: I can do it if you want, but now that Dolan's gone, Ray should stop intentionally hurting himself. Also, Toure. We should be fine.
FUHRY: OK, Glen. I trust you.
GLEN looks quizzingly at his new boss
GLEN: It's just that.... no one's ever said that to me before.
FUHRY: It's a new era around here. Let's go rescue Carter from the pit and go celebrate.
THE END.... AND THE BEGINNING......