David Stern called James Dolan, owner of the New York Knickerbockers, into his office to discuss the recent troubles with his franchise.
Stern: Jim. (claps hands and sighs) Things aren't going too good right now.
Dolan: (taking a seat) Really?
Stern: Yes, Jim. You're our flagship franchise -- this is freakin' New York for goodness sake. I can't have you being the embarrassment of the league. It's just not good for business.
Dolan: I'm not quite sure I follow...
Stern: (stands up and begins pacing back and forth) Jim. James. Every day I have fifteen articles slamming you fly across my desk, each worse than the last. Leno and Conan have been absolutely hammering you lately.
Dolan: So, we've been in the news? That's good, right? There's no such thing as bad publicity!
Stern: No, Jim. You're the laughingstock of the league -- that's why we've kept the Clippers and Hawks around for so long, to deflect this type of attention.
Dolan: (stares blankly).
Stern: You've got to do something, Jim. Or I will.
Dolan: I started my own band. Have you seen us play yet? JD & The Straight Shot?
Dolan: I'll get you some tickets. We're great. We're kind of like... if you took the blues and feces and put it in a blender -- that's what JD & The Straight Shot is like.
Stern: You know I could have you killed? I could... and honestly, I doubt anyone would mind.
Dolan: So, what are you saying? You're not into the blues?
Stern: (flies across his desk, grabbing Dolan by the throat) No, dickweed. What I'm saying is that you are fucking joke!
Dolan: Ouch! You're hurting me. Uncle!
Stern: You have one week -- that's seven days -- to eliminate Isiah Thomas from your organization.
Dolan: But... but I can't.
Stern: No. You can... and you will.
Dolan: But... I can't. I-I-I... can't.
Stern: You get rid of him, or I get rid of you. (releases grip)
Dolan: (begins to sob) But you don't understand! I can't! (sneaks quick glances around the office and begins to whisper) He knows things! Deep, dark, big secrets! He could bring this whole operation down!
Stern: Isiah's more of a moron than you. What could he possibly know?
Dolan: He knows about... (more paranoid glancing)... Ewing...
Stern: You bastard! How could you tell him?!
Dolan: He found it on youtube... I had no choice but to 'fess up!
Stern: (throws hands up in the air) Damn you internet! Foiled again!!!
Dolan: What do we do?
Stern: You let me take care of this, Jimmy. Now get the hell out of here and try to stop being such a fuckup.
Dolan: Sure thing, dad. (gets up and heads out of the office).
Stern: (calls his secretary on his intercom) Mindy! Quick, get me the cleaner on the line...
Mindy: I'm confused. Do you mean the cleaner-cleaner, like the lady who scrubs the toilets? Or (gasps!) You don't mean...
Stern: Yes! Get me Xavier McDaniel. I got some dirty work to do.