October 28, 2056
GM Chad Nason sits alone in his dark office
*remote control slams on desk*
CN: Brittani! Get in here!
BJ: Yes, sir?
CN: Did you see this shit storm of a press conference? This asshole Westy and his trillions of dollars thinks he can change the landscape of the BBA. He brings along Ron Collins?! There is NO amount of money that can buy Collins a championship. But that’s his problem.
BJ: Right…did you need something from me?
CN: Yes. You’ve done a great job replacing Gertie as Assistant to the GM, but we have a big problem here we need to figure out. There’s no fucking way our guys are playing games in the Marshall Islands. We have had enough bad luck flying over the Pacific and we certainly aren’t using that circle jerk device for transporting.
BJ: Excuse me?
CN: You know, that stupid Come Together transportation. I just know it will ‘conveniently’ malfunction once our players step through the door. Is that how they’re gonna resort to finally winning games?
BJ: Do you need me to get you on the line with the commissioner?
CN: No. No, the GB is in shambles right now. They’ve put me in charge of all the new guys and the whole GBC. They clearly don’t have a clue. We need to take matters into our own hands. There’s only one man for the job...
