Greg’s eyes spring open. He is awake. Again.
Another day of work. Another day of declining Bryant’s request to fly to North Carolina to scout Zion Williamson. Another day of trying to ban 1951. He rolls out of bed, showers quickly, and gets dressed for the day in his Vivek-approved velour sweat suit. Downstairs, Greg hears his family chatting cheerfully over breakfast, but he’s still under an Akis-instituted breakfast embargo until the clicks increase threefold.
He descends the staircase, kisses the wife and kiddos goodbye, a hungry rumble coursing through his tummy as his eyes trace the delicious buffet before him.