Take a look at a entirely fictional firsthand account of what goes on at Toyota Center. The following is NSFW. Now that you know, click the jump.
Scene: Toyota Center locker room. Shane Battier greets the Rockets as they enter the room.
Shane Battier: Thanks for coming today, fellas. Needed to talk to you about a few things.
(Brad Miller grunts)
Battier: As you'll notice, Patrick Patterson isn't here. By the way, the fact that I'm referring to him by his full name and not by some rosy, homoerotic nickname means we need to step it up. Suggestions?
Kyle Lowry: Batman.
Jared Jeffries: What the fuck?
Battier: I don't get it. Why would we call Patrick Patterson ‘Batman?'
Lowry: Dunno. Like his style. Could go with Pattman, too.
Battier: That doesn't seem--
Lowry: Long as it's got something to do with Batman, I'm cool with it. But we can't do anything with Robin. Not just ‘cause he's white, but I'm just sayin.'
Battier: Well, okay, any other suggest--
Lowry: Hell, I don't even think Pattman is qualified to be Batman just yet. Batman can fly like a real bat. Maybe I'm alone on this, but I've never seen Patrick fly before. Fuck, what's that movie? Right. Kick-Ass. I'm down with calling him Kick-Ass if that's cool with y'all.
(Mike Harris wonders why he is here and leaves)
Battier: Anyone else have any other thought--
Luis Scola: El Mariachi.
Lowry: Yeah, like Antonio Banderas and the guitar case, but instead of a guitar case, it's got a shit ton of guns in it. I'm down.
Scola: ¿Por que no El Mariachi?
Lowry: No, no, I said it's good. IT IS A GOOD NAME. I'D BE OKAY WITH--
Battier: OK, stop, stop we'll finish this later. The real reason I called you here is to talk about hazing.
Chase Budinger: Fuck YES.
Battier: It's time to step it up. This kind of horse manure would never fly at Duke. We've been far too nice, which isn't a bad thing necessarily, but I want to put the foot down and put people in their rightful place. Mr. Taylor didn't get it too bad last year - I think he put the fear of God into us that we shouldn't touch him.
Jermaine Taylor: I hate rookies. I hope they all just piss off and die.
Battier: Mr. Budinger got it rough because he's skinny, white and couldn't beat up a tadpole if it called him Nancy. But this year, we've got to do better. Any suggestions?
Budinger: MAKE HIM DO FIFTY JUMPING JACKS... CONSECUTIVELY.
Chuck Hayes: Back in Kentucky, a buddy of mine was in a fraternity. Made his pledges dig a hole underneath their house. Took turns living in it for two days. Had a straw so they could breathe through the dirt. If they didn't make it, well, it was nice and convenient, ‘cause they were already buried.
(silence)
Hayes: ... so, uh, if we got any place with a bunch of dirt...
Battier: I don't think that's what we've got in mind, but good idea Mr. Hayes. Anyone else?
Aaron Brooks: Write him a check for $1 million, act like you're going to give it to him as a "rookie bonus" and then get up on a step stool and hold the check up in the air so he can't reach it.
Battier: That only worked on you, Mr. Brooks.
Brooks: Shit.
Ariza: Make him stay after practice to do extra dribbling drills, because those were always pretty difficult and... wait... that was probably just me, too.
Brad Miller: Tie him to the basket.
Budinger: OMG YES.
(everyone nods in agreement)
Battier: Speak for yourself, Mr. Miller.
Miller: Uh, what? What are you talking about?
Battier: We might be talking about hazing Mr. Patterson right now, but we haven't gotten to what's in store for you yet. Have you ever heard of a little thing called... Free Agent Hazing?
Jeffries: What the fuck?
Miller: You serious? Free agent hazing?
Battier: Yes. I'm completely serious. Free agent hazing.
Lowry: Haaaaa, you're about to get your big ass BEAT.
Battier: That's funny, Mr. Lowry. But keep talking. Go ahead. Just keep it up, because it won't be long until it's your turn.
Lowry: Wait, you don't mean--
Battier: Oh, yes. Restricted Free Agent Hazing.
(everyone gasps)
Scola: Son of bitch.
Lowry: How in the hell can there be restricted free agent hazing? We've been with the team for two-three years already! This is straight booty.
Battier: Too bad. You left for a bit and were lucky to come back. Wonder why we all get along so well? ‘Cause it's enforced - it's beaten into your brain until you get it. By the way, Mr. Martin, do you have any thoughts for us?
Kevin Martin: (throws up a gooseneck, puts headphones back on)
Hayes: Hey Kyle, you know what? Deal with it. I'm about to go through the same thing.
Lowry: Huh? What are you talking about?
Hayes: Fuckin' Team Option Hazing.
Ariza: You're kidding me. Team option hazing?
Battier: Team option hazing. I'm really sorry, by the way, Mr. Hayes. You know, with you being a captain and all. Seems pretty unfair.
Hayes: Trust me, ain't half as bad as what I coulda gotten in college. They coulda ‘Haysed' the fuck out of me.
Jordan Hill: Sucks to be you, bro. I did my hazing in New York. They didn't do shit to me. Got away easy.
Battier: Well, speaking of that, Mr. Hill...
Hill: No fucking way.
Battier: That's right. First Full Season Hazing.
Hill: GOD DAMMMIT.
Battier: Just kidding.
Hill: Really?
Battier: No. I'm actually being serious. You, Mr. Jeffries and Mr. Martin are going to get it bad.
Martin: Uh.
(door opens. Yao walks in, ten minutes late)
Battier: Hey, Yao. We're just talking about hazing. No big deal.
Yao (eyes wide open): I'm just here to get better. My foot is fine. I'm going to rehab and work to get back to full strength. If things don't get better, I might just retire. Who knows. We'll see how comfortable it gets during the season. I don't want to hurt it again. China needs to find someone else. I can't carry the team anymore.
(everyone moves aside as Yao walks out the door and to the practice court)
Battier: Uh, so, where were we?
Hayes: First full season hazing.
Battier: Right. Mr. Hill, Mr. Jeffries and Mr. Martin: if you'd go back to the bathroom for me, just for a second, that would be great. We're going to discuss some stuff right here for a sec and then get back to you guys.
(As Hill, Jeffries and Martin walk to bathroom, Battier snaps his fingers. Alexander Johnson comes running at the three players, roars, breathes fire and eats them).