It is late in the evening following the Knicks' Wednesday night loss to the Orlando Magic. J.R. Smith is leading his good buddy Jason Smith to a hidden room deep within the bowels of Madison Square Garden...
Jason: "Man, that was a tough loss. I really played like crap in the second half...the crowd was booing me and everything. How can I get them to like me?"
J.R.: "Don't worry, Jason. You're a special cat, and some day all those people out there are going to know it. Here, I want to show you J.R.'s secret garden."
J.R. opens the door to his special MSG man cave -- a room decked out with cashmere Victorian fainting couches shaped like basketball sneakers, a Golden Tee arcade game, an X-Box One and this ultra-classy still life oil painting by William Michael Harnett.
J.R.: "This is where I come after games to unwind the traditional J.R. Smith way...with a glass of warm milk and some smooth jazz records."
Jason: "I love it, Earl! How come I've never heard of this place before?"
J.R.: "Nobody knows about it...I only bring my best friend here."
Jason: "So...so does this mean we're best friends now?"
J.R.: "Of course, buddy...the very best of friends. There's no one else."
A tall, pasty figure emerges from the shadows..."No one else, huh?"
J.R.: "Steve! What are you doing here? Didn't you have a game in Atlanta tonight?"
Steve Novak: "I'm quicker than people think."
J.R.: "You always were. Nobody ever gave you the credit you deserved, Steve."
Steve: "I thought you did, Earl. I thought we had something special! Have you forgotten all we've been through!"
J.R.: "They called us the Odd Couple...but there was nothing odd about it. It was natural; it was beautiful."
Steve: "That's what I thought...until I came here and saw you bringing this hussy to our special room!"
Steve: "Shut up! You think I don't read the box scores, J.R.? I've seen how many passes you've been throwing to this trumped-up skank."
Steve holds up a chart of Jason Smith's assisted field goals from NBA.com:
J.R.: "Uhhh...that must be a typographical error or something."
Steve: "Don't lie to me, Earl. I've seen you two together, working that pick-and-pop over and over. Now I see this guy has even taken your last name!"
Jason: "The "Smith" thing is just a coincidence."
Steve: "YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH! This guy is a bad influence, Earl. The Knicks are being outscored by 30.8 points per 100 possessions with the two of you on the court together. That never happened with us. But noooooo, you couldn't wait to drop me for this mid-range trollop."
J.R.: "How dare you try to play the victim. You were the one who left me! You hopped on the first bus to Toronto, and now you're partying out in Utah."
Steve: "First of all, nobody parties in Utah. You think I wanted to get traded for Andrea freakin' Bargnani? How am I ever gonna explain that to my grandchildren!?"
J.R.: "You're right, Steve. I guess subconsciously tried to replace you with another tall, awkward white guy. But nobody could ever replace you."
Jason: "Guys...I'm standing right here."
J.R.: "Get the hell out of my room, bitch. I don't need you anymore. Novie's home!"
Steve: "I love you, man."
J.R. and Steve tearfully embrace. Fade to black.