The Motijheel side? Frozen solid. Pale faces. Eyes wide with utter disbelief. It was their home court. They’d been dominating for three quarters. They might have been a little arrogant, maybe. Okay, maybe a lot. And now… tied. Against a team they were supposed to crush like grapes. Against a pyer who seemed to have just thrown the entire rulebook of basketball out the window and started making up his own rules. The tables had officially, and dramatically, turned.
The game had completely flipped. Transformed. It went from a total blowout, a boring rout, to a nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat deadlock in, like, ten minutes. From a guaranteed victory for Motijheel – basically a done deal – to… well, now? Anything felt possible. The momentum had shifted so dramatically it was almost comical.
And it was all because of James. The quiet, unassuming newcomer. The miracle worker, seemingly pulling off the impossible py after impossible py. The… something else entirely. Something beyond just "good at basketball." Something extraordinary, maybe even… otherworldly. Something that had taken a regur high school basketball game and turned it into something bordering on unbelievable. This wasn't just a game anymore; it was a spectacle, a phenomenon, the James Show, and everyone in the gym was completely captivated.
Okay, so halftime just smacked them in the face like a rogue basketball. Seriously, one minute they were chilling, up by Twenty
Three points – yeah, you read that right, Twenty
Three – and the next, BAM! Buzzer's bring, scoreboard's screaming 32-32, and the whole Motijheel locker room felt like someone just sucked all the air out.
It was like that moment when your Wi-Fi cuts out right before the best part of a YouTube tutorial. Total disbelief, mixed with a healthy dose of panic.
Salman, Mr. Swagger himself, was pacing like a caged tiger, except this tiger looked more like a defted balloon animal. "Yo, seriously… what in the actual heck just happened?" he sputtered, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up for once.
His eyes were bugging out like he’d just seen a ghost – or worse, his phone battery hit 1%. "Thirty points, man! THIRTY! They just Thanos-snapped our entire lead in ONE quarter! How is that even possible? Did we accidentally switch bodies with the worst team in the league at halftime or something?!"
He was gesturing wildly, like he was trying to mime the entire disaster to an invisible audience. The confusion was radiating off him in waves, thick enough to cut with a butter knife.
Lut, usually the king of sarcasm and witty comebacks, was slumped on the bench looking like he’d just seen his favorite meme get ratioed into oblivion. His usual snark was MIA, repced by something that sounded suspiciously like… awe?
"Nah, fam, listen," he mumbled, his voice low and kinda shaky, "that newbie dude… that newbie is straight-up bonkers." He stretched out the word "insane" like it was a rubber band about to snap, as if even that word wasn't enough to cover how wild this James guy was.
