F Trope: De-myth-tification (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Demythtification)
Current Event: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/50_Greatest_Players_in_NBA_History,
http://www.wnba.com/allstar/2011/top15_players_110723.html,
http://www.investopedia.com/financial-edge/0410/top-wnba-salaries.aspx
Ticha Griffith
pushed her way through the crowd of well-wishers, fans, crazies and other
nutcases and tumbled into the limousine. Flashes went off as the door closed.
She said, “Great, now my butt will be on the cover of Sports Illustrated.” The
man in sunglasses, black suit and black tie was rail thin and taller than
almost anyone she’d ever known. He was taller than was natural – though Rev
Nguyen had nothing whatsoever to do with nature. He didn’t say a word, staring
straight ahead at the divider between the spacious limo rear and the chauffer
up front. She hated silence, so she said, “Where are we going?”
“I’ve got my
goddess, now it’s off to pick up my god.”
Ticha hated when
he called them his “god and goddess”. She’d been raised by a
charismatic-Baptist mother and a tent evangelist papa – not that she believed
any of the crazy mumbo jumbo, HOOOOOly SpiRIT crap they’d fed her as a kid
anymore. But still...
He’d started
calling her “goddess” when she’d first been voted into the WNBA Hall of Fame
and elected the Best Women’s Basketball Player On Earth two years running and
he’d negotiated the highest pay and options package of any WNBA player ever.
Her endorsements with the cereal company, the chicken fast food, and sports
equipment giant put her annual worth at just over five million. She said, “I
hate it when you call us ‘god and goddess’.”
“Shut up!” Ticha
turned away and pursed her lips, knowing he was right. The limo pulled up to
the best hotel in the city. The chauffer popped the door and O’Neal Ferdinand
turned, showing his butt to her, as he waved, signed autographs, shook hands
and kissed babies before ducking into the car.
Rev said, “So,
how’s the godhood going, O-man?”
O’Neal had no
hesitation. Flashing his trademark pearly whites – he DID have a toothpaste
endorsement to keep up looks for – he peeked over his sunglasses and said,
“Hallelujah, Brother. Hallelujah.”
Rev’s eyebrow
twitched down. His lips thinned. Ticha scrunched into the corner of the limo’s
bench seat, as far from her agent as she could get. For a moment, she thought
she felt the tiny hairs on her forearms stand up as the air seemed to charge
with electricity.
O’Neal glanced
at her, winked then took off the glasses, saying, “Sorry, my Lord. I can’t seem
to stop myself from teasing people.”
Rev said, “I’m
not people. I’m your agent and your handler – godhood notwithstanding, I made
you and I can unmake you just as easily.”
O’Neal snorted
and pulled off the glasses. He lifted a finger as Ticha said, “So where are you
taking us, Master Nguyen?”
Their agent
looked at her and she might have sworn that behind the dark lenses of his
glasses, there was a sudden glow – as of red hot coals – but she knew that
couldn’t be. He was an agent. He had movies stars, writers, and a few other
athletes in his stables. He didn’t call any of them “god and goddess” though.
She frowned as he replied, “A special meeting I’ve set up with a really
big-name agent.”
O’Neal said, “You’re
my agent – I didn’t never say I’d be anyone else’s meal ticket!”
The cheek under
Rev’s left eye twitched. He opened his mouth…
Names: ♀ (short form of Letisha) Latin, Welsh ; ♂ Irish, German
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