Knicktion: Coup Part Quatro

Glen: I'll go deal with Dolan.

Fuhry: Glen... you can't. He's playing the blues in our waiting area. Don't you realize how dangerous that is?

Glen: I do. The receptionist....

Fuhry: Glen... she's already dead. No one could have survived Dolan's singing at that close range.

Glen: That's why I have to go out there. How many more will die if I don't?

Glen Grunwald bolts for the door of Fuhry's office.

Fuhry: GLEN! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Glen Grunwald opens the door and closes it behind him. Horrible, gurgling noises are heard. Finally, the door opens, and an ashen Grunwald stumbles in.

Glen: I - I - I - I unplugged him.

Fuhry: Is he alone?

Glen: Kim Jong Il and Dennis Rodman are with him.

Fuhry: That would explain how they got this far.

Glen: Your father he is. (dies)

Fuhry: OK, I'll just ignore that last part. Rest well, my dorky looking friend. You did good, Glen, you did good.

Fuhry sheds a single, bitter tear.

Fuhry: Fuck! Now what am I supposed to do?

As if on cue, Fuhry's desk phone rings. He sprints over and picks it up violently.

Fuhry: Dolan, blood sucker! Do you hear me? DO YOU!?!?! Oh. No, no, sorry Steve. I thought it was someone else. I told you Popper, I'm looking to find Woodson so I can fire him. Not looking to fire him. See the distinction? OK. OK, Popper, you're welcome.

Fuhry hangs up. Suddenly there is a pounding on the door. A Fender Stratocaster breaks through the heavy oaken door and a hairy arm in a cheesy shirt reaches through and turns the doorknob from the inside.

Fuhry: I'm screwed.

The tense silence is broken by a loud crash, as Amare Stoudemire busts through the plate glass curtain wall swinging on a bejeweled rope. He is dressed in a superhero outfit of blue with orange trim.

Fuhry: Phenomenal outfit!

Amare: Thanks! Wear these!

In a swift drop-step movement, Amar'e places a pair of headphones on Fuhry's head, playing Israeli hip-hop.

Fuhry: Sennheisers? I would have though they would be Beats by Dr. Dre.

Amare: Phenomenal sound. Not-so-phenomenal affiliation with CAA.

Fuhry: Gotcha. Hey, they're working - Dolan's attempts to sing the blues are having no effect.

Dolan: OK, Get out of my office. You don't own the Knicks, I do. Daddy said so.

Fuhry: No way, Dolan. You signed them over to me fair and square. Amar'e, could you hand me that document over there?

Amar'e: Sure.

As Stoudemire picks up the document, it slips out of his hands and a gust of wind from the broken wind blows it up toward the ceiling. Amar'e goes after it, as does the 51 year old Dennis Rodman from 20 feet across the room. Do I even have to type this next sentence?

Amar'e: DAMN!

Rodman: Ha ha ha, I still got it.

Fuhry: It doesn't matter, I made copies.

Dolan: You.... made... copies? but HOW?!?!?!

Fuhry: It's like putting together a winning basketball team. Except way easier. Some of us have it and some of us don't.

Dolan: It appears we have a standoff. Kim!

Kim Jong Il pulls out a large metal box with a long antenna and a big red button on it, and presses the button. After a few minutes of everyone standing around staring at each other, a missile becomes visible outside the window, heading right for the office.

Fuhry: Quick! Rodman! Rebound the missle!

Rodman: I GOT THIS!

Dennis Rodman tips the missle up in the air, and keeps tipping it while he prances around the room. Finally, he grabs it and it vaporizes him in an extremely localized explosion.


Kim Jong Il: AHHH NIIIIIII!!!!!!!!

James Dolan and Kim Jong Il break down in tears and begin to console each other. Fuhry looks over at Amar'e, who raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, similar to when Blake Griffin dunked on Mozzy that time. The sobfest is only broken when Mike Woodson ambles into the office.

Woodson: Hey, boss.

Dolan: You're - you're FIRED, Woodson! It's your fault Rodman is gone!

Fuhry: Dolan, you can't fire him! You're not in charge! It's my job.

Dolan: I am too in charge.

Fuhry: No you're not. Woody! You're.... Hey, where'd he go?

Amar'e: Snuck out. Still pretty quick when he needs to be.

Fuhry: Damn!

Amar'e: Well, avoiding management so they don't have the opportunity to tell us what to do is a big part of what we do as a ballclub.

Fuhry: I'll intercept him in the lockerroom before the game. Everytime I try to go to practice he's not there.

Amar'e: Good luck. He usually doesn't show up until right before the tip. Coach Todd's been giving us the game plan. I tried to tell him, "Coach Todd, I think we'll get a technical if we play 6 guys at once. He says, "DO WHAT I SAY" in that weird robot voice he sometimes gets. Then at the last minute, Woody shows up and yanks one of the point guards off the floor. Definitely less than phenomenal situation, but we'll make the most of it.

Dolan: You're in over your head here, Fuhry. You have no idea of the kind of madness that reigns. I'm the only one crazy enough to deal with it all. Do yourself a favor and abdicate the throne before you get hurt.

Fuhry: But... I love the Knicks. I want this horror to end.

Dolan: Don't end up like Glen. This is deeper than you know. This organization will eat you alive.

Fuhry: OUCH! That chair just took a bite out of my leg!

Dolan: See what I mean?

Amar'e: I think he might be right, Fuhry. You fought the good fight, but we've got to live to fight another day.

Fuhry: Why doesn't the organization eat HIM alive?

Kim Jong Il: If I might... it's because he tastes really, really bad. Worse even than South Korean food.

Fuhry: Alright alright. But I'll be back, Dolan, to take this organization to the happy place. By Clyde's wardrobe, I swear it.

Dolan: Great. OK Kim, get me a receptionist, 12 clowns (4 evil), a mime, and a philosophy professor.

Amar'e: C'mon man, I'll give you a few tickets to tonight's game.

Fuhry grabs onto Amar'e's back and the two of them swing off into the cold Manhattan Twilight. Fuhry loses his grip and falls but lands in a truck full of mattresses. The truck happens to be heading toward Austin, Texas, where he returns to his family.

Has Fuhry done good, or was it all for naught? Time will tell, Knicks fans, Time Will Tell. In the meantime Dolan's back. Will his exile give him the shred of vision he would need to build an actual basketball team? Who knows. In the meantime, Amar'e's superhero suit was really cool. So there's that.


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