trwi7 wrote:Nowak008 wrote:Can you or someone retell the Hammond Penny story? I can't remember exactly how that happened.
Gather 'round children and let me tell the tale of Trader John.
John was born in the faraway land of Zion, Illinois. Not only does part of its border touch Wisconsin but it's also really close to Six Flags Great America. When John retires from basketball he will be the old Six Flags dancing guy but that's not why we're here today.
*throws cocaine on the fire and tells children it's magic dust*
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away called Detroit John got a phone call from a mysterious number. It turns out it was Herb Kohl. Herb had just fired a snake that was in the grass that he had named Larry Harris. Larry Harris was a bad snake because he kept killing all the rodents that were eating the bags of oats that Herb left for them. Herb needed a nicer snake and heard that John Hammond was getting rave reviews and could also run his floundering basketball team.
Hammond, excited to get out of Detroit decided to accept the job and worked hard to not only build a basketball team but also build a home where all rodents could come and stay rent free away from the dangers of those dastardly coyotes and harassing hawks.
While the basketball team continued to flounder, the construction of Mouse House was going up in record time. By 2010, nearly one million mice had taken up occupancy with hopes of adding a million more mice per year, which is no problem with how much they ****.
As the years went on the Mouse House continued to boom while the Bucks continued to languish in mediocrity. Finally, Trader John came up with an idea to help the team. A combination of black magic, voodoo and deceit. John had known for years that Herb wanted his basketball team to be competitive, to make as many playoff appearances as possible. Hammond knew in order to improve the team, they would need to be at the top of the lottery and despite being in the lottery several times, John was far too talented to bring the team near the top.
John put a voodoo spell on Herb in the beginning of the season guaranteeing his job security no matter how many losses piled up. John used black magic to make a ball that was 3 feet off target by Spencer Hawes curve back and into the basket.
The black magic and voodoo was used at various times throughout the year, though wasn't needed as much as John thought as he had assembled a truly awful team. They were the Monstars before they stole the NBA players' talent except without the ray guns.
By the end of the season his Bucks had finished with the worst record in the NBA! The best odds at winning the lottery but only 25%? "That's not enough!" shouted John. Fearing he had used up everything he knew in regards to voodoo and black magic, John had to search high and low for a new advantage. What could that be? Who knew more? How would he get in contact with this person?
An anonymous tip led him to a mysterious number. While John doesn't know how to make outgoing calls, he was able to find someone on the street to help. An answer! On the other line was a man telling him to meet at an abandoned warehouse. "Don't bring anyone", said the mysterious voice as he hung up.
Intrigued and slightly turned on, John met later that week at the abandoned warehouse, just like the mysterious voice said. Not wanting to be rude, John made an apple pie, hoping that if they weren't going to eat it, he would at least get the chance to **** it.
This voice was familiar but the stranger was dressed with sunglasses, a ski mask and a trench coat. John could not identify the man. "You will find out who I am in due time."
The stranger called an Uber. Both he and John got in. A short 5 minute ride and they arrived at a quaint diner in a gritty part of town. The took a corner table away from the lunch rush and sat. "I'll have the cheeseburger!" John excitedly shouted. The stranger asked if they put a spicy or dijon mustard on the cheeseburger. The waitress said no. The stranger replied "Thanks, Obama! I'll have the BLT then."
During the two hour lunch, the stranger taught John more black magic and voodoo the likes of which he never knew existed. The #1 pick was a certainty at this point in John's mind.
Walking out the door the stranger stumbled upon a penny. "Just to guarantee it. Why don't you grab that lucky penny?" Needing every ounce of luck he could get, John quickly snapped up the penny. "Good boy. Until we meet again, John." The stranger then quickly took off his sunglasses revealing his cold, steely eyes. The ski mask came next to reveal the face of one Tony La Russa, the biggest cock bag in MLB. "Of course!" Hammond exclaimed. "Who else could it have been other than the biggest **** stain in professional sports." La Russa, proud of being able to keep his identity sealed ripped off his trench coat to reveal the goatse'd **** stretched to its limit through years of self abuse.
John rubbed the penny and then his nipples every day until the lottery. When the day finally came John himself was not on stage. That was a new owner's daughter. John was furiously trying to work his voodoo and black magic on the new owners so he could keep his job while simultaneously rubbing the penny. John was worried the owners would notice the fidgeting of his hand. His solution was to wear the tightest briefs he could find and take a whole bottle of Viagra. The raging erection would be flexed up and down forcing the penny to rub against his long, smooth, rock hard shaft.
The moment had arrived. Down to the top two picks, the Bucks and the Cavaliers. No way they were going to get the #1 pick again. The card is revealed. The unholy concoction of wine and gold. Possibly the ugliest color combo in the world had just shown up. Not only was John going to have an erection for way longer than 4 hours, Tony La Russa had deceived him. He thought they were friends but realized he had just been taken for a ride and not just by the Uber driver.