Sad to see Mike Miller go, but at least we uncovered a fake letter from Pat Riley with his final words to the former Heat swingman.
First off, I just wanted to tell you that letting you go was not my idea. If it were up to me, we’d keep your crippled ass around for a very long time. Dont tell anyone, but Chris and I sometimes have your Game 5 highlights against OKC on when I’m giving her Riles Jr. Not sure why she calls it “Jr.” considering Piranhaconda was his nickname at Kentucky.
Mickey’s business with the ships took quite a hit last quarter and he ultimately had to shave a little salary. On one of the boats, I heard they had to start crapping in buckets. We have commercial-strength flushing at the house. The entire ship would’ve gone down.
I just wanted to make sure we’re cool on a few things before you move on to an inferior organization. Those nuru massages Yakatomi has been giving you — they’re not exactly street legal. Let’s keep that on the hush my friend. Never forget that Pat Riley teams rehabilitate in style.
Since we’re paying you over $6 million a year to not play for us, I have a favor I want to ask you. Actually more like a “friendly” demand. Pat Riley doesn’t ask for favors.
Michael, your jumper is beautiful. I want it on another one of my teams, only I want the body to be substantially more athletic and a little less white. So here’s what you’re going to do. Serena Williams is a friend and you’re going give her a visit this weekend. You’re going to have relations with her and pray to the Basketball Gods it’s a son. That kid will be the best shooting, most athletic specimen this game has ever seen.
They call me the godfather for a reason, Michael. I’m 20 years ahead of everyone else. Another thing, I’ve become immortal. Please keep that hush too. Tell Jenn and the kids I say hello.
[This letter will explode in twenty seconds...]