Awkward pauses arrhythmically punctuate the low humming waves of noise so that when the sound of initial feedback from a freshly switched on PA system hits the room, it isn’t shocking, and the errant voices take time to fizzle before abruptly being cut off by the Bulls PA announcer,
“…AND NOOOOOOW, INTRODUCING THE NEW OWNER OF YOUR CHICAGO BULLS…”
A short man in a nice suit walks out. The suit is reeeeeeal nice. Must’ve cost a fortune. Some of you might recognize him. The press corps doesn’t because he’s from a different fictional universe. Or maybe they do because they cover basketball, and it’s not like he just bought the team. So yeah, let’s go with that. They know who he is and it isn’t weird or anything because he’s a guy who’s legitimately rich enough to buy a basketball team in this universe and they already know about that.
“…ROMAN
There’s some applause, but it’s not raucous or anything as Roman steps to the podium. Mostly the applause is for me for adding strikethru code to the forum. Feel free to use it.
Roman: “Yeah, yeah. Calm down you vultures. I came into a big sum of money recently, so I decided, ‘what the hell…I’ll buy a basketball team,’ and they said that this one was pretty good, and it had a General Manager who generally knows what he’s doing. And yes, it’s true that the initial purchase was made by Roman Franc and garbageman used his admin powers to rename me. I’m not a player, so it’s not against the rules, and no, he’s not going to rename your team owners, so don’t bother asking. Anyone got a problem with that?”
Some of the members of the press look confused, a couple hands go up. Roman ignores them.
Roman: “Fantastic. Now, onto business. I’m not huge into sportsball or whatever, so I pretty much just went with what garbageman said over the offseason, and we went out and got some expensive players who are apparently pretty good like Charles Darrett and Ken Jerks. It’s an expensive team overall, so it better be good, but they’re a team, and when a team is a team it can’t actually be beat.”
Roman takes out some notecards that garbageman drew up for him. He provides an internal monologue as he looks through them.
Roman: “Don’t know what this means…” *FLIP* “That looks like as good a starting lineup as any.” *FLIP* “Don’t give a Frye about last year…”
Roman tosses the notecards in the air.
Roman: “You know what? Let’s just get to the questions so I can get out of here before looking at all you sportswriter types for too long kills my ability to get a boner later."
Roy points to some oafy looking beardo with a field recorder, but realistically, he could've pointed to most
Roman: "I don't want to be sitting there jerking off tonight and all of the sudden that guy's face pops out of my memory,”
