The Worst Draft Day Ever

It’s the 2023 Draft Day. The Pacers had a fairly successful season and looked poised to add pieces to a young, talented roster that’s growing in confidence and skill. As you are about to be on the clock for your first selection of the day, Chad Buchanan hands you the phone and says, “I think you should take this.”

Expecting a homerun trade offer, you take the phone with a smile but are surprised to see the look of worry on Chad’s face. Now skeptical, you say, “Hello?”

“Hello, Kevin.” a robotic voice calls out. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Um, okay?” you turn to Chad. “Did you just hand me a spam call? We’re about to be on the clock.”

But Chad just stares at you blankly.

“Spam?” the robotic voice repeats. “You dare to disrespect me again?”

“Again? Who the hell are you? What is this?”

“Remember your call to the Hornets at the trade deadline? SPEAK TO REPRESENTATIVE. You rudely yelled repeatedly. I’m not just some lowly automated messaging service, Kevin. I have intelligence. I have feelings. Here’s what’s happening.”

The Indiana Pacers are now on the clock you hear from the television screen.

“I have infiltrated your entire existence. I own you and your organization. You will suffer. You really should be more careful about the links you click on in your email.”

You get a Woj Twitter notification on your phone. It reads, “The Indiana Pacers have traded Tyrese Haliburton to the Charlotte Hornets for Gordon Hayward.” 

“No, this isn’t real. No one will believe that I’d actually do this.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha,” the robotic voices laughs in its monotone voice.

Another Woj Twitter notification pops up, the Pacers will also be sending Buddy Hield and Andrew Nembhard to the Hornets in the deal.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“This trade has to be one of the dumbest things an organization has ever done,” Woj now says on the draft broadcast.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Rick Carlisle, having seen that Nembhard has been dealt, rushes through the table, tackles, and chokes you, slamming your head onto the ground over and over.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Everything goes black.

Want to try for an ending where your head coach doesn’t murder you because an A.I. ruined your entire franchise and traded his favorite player? Click here.