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Fan Fiction Friday: Monta's Sweet New Pad

Justin Ford-USA TODAY Sports

You heard last week that Monta had had several of the Mavericks over to his house for dinner. Believe it or not, your intrepid Mavs Moneyball staff scored an EXCLUSIVE scoop on how all that went down. The following is raw and unedited, and may not be suitable for children. Please enjoy with care.

Lightning crackled across a wild dark sky, lighting the turrets of the castle, briefly, grey, toothless skulls before darkness fell again. It was a terrible night, driving storm and harsh, cold rain.

"That's his new place?" Devin said uneasily. "Come on guys, it's probably fine," Dirk said. "We have lots of castles in Germany, nbd. Very few of them are haunted by horrible ghouls, ha ha. Wait, who mentioned the ghouls?"

"Man, where did he even find a castle in Dallas?" Wayne Ellington said, but no one answered.

A creaking noise struck the landscape a blow and the party jumped, but it was "just" the drawbridge coming down. A figure in a dark cloak stood at the other end.

"Haha, come on guys, that's not a vampire, don't be stupid."

"No one said anything about vampires, Dirk" Jose whispered.

The figure turned out to be Monta Ellis.

"Guys, I'm so glad you could make it!" he said. "Check out this swag new pad I got, huh? Got it super cheap. Apparently the owner died of old age, while also an ancient sword mysteriously fell off a wall, flew across the room and stabbed him in the heart."

"Yeah, I'm out," ‘Trix said, getting back in his car. The rest of them follow Monta.

Given the terrifying surroundings, dinner was actually surprisingly pleasant. The hall-it could only be called a hall-was well lit, the food was great and plentiful. They ate, talked, and bonded. As they sat back, deeply satisfied, Shane Larkin spoke up. "I gotta admit, I was pretty creeped out by this place, but this is pretty great, Monta. And who was that dude you hired to keep the wine going? That guy was nice."

"Hmm? I didn't hire anybody. Just us in here. Hey, you guys want to see the basement?"

"Definitely not," Dirk said.

"Great, let's go."

A winding set of stairs led them down into what appeared to be a dungeon. The group dutifully followed.

"Check out all this sweet retro workout equipment dudes," Monta said.

The team stared around the gloomy darkness in horror. "Monta...this is...this is a torture chamber..." Brandan said.

"I know, right? Haha, some days it's like WHY do I do this to myself, but you gotta stay fit, gotta stay pumped. YOU know."

"Have you...done any of this to yourself?" Jose said, eyeing an Iron Maiden thoughtfully.

"Nah man, I mostly work out at the AAC right now, try to get the feel for it, but it'll be nice someday when I can't get out there right? My own little gym."

Dirk grabbed him by the shoulders. "MONTA, NEVER WORK OUT HERE."

"Hey chill out man, I ain't trying to take your job, we in this together, Monta can get swole if he wants to."

Dirk's reply, whatever it was, was cut off by the sound of manic laughter apparently emanating from the walls.

"Awesome!" Monta shouted. "Isn't this place the illest? Last guy must have got a sound system into the walls. That is some super jolly stuff, always makes me mega pumped. MEGA pumped."

Monta noticed, suddenly, that he was the only one in the basement, everyone else having fled. "Whatever man," he said, "maybe that headless bro wants to play cards again. Nice dude. Nice."

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