The four children stood on the curb. Waiting. Waiting. It seemed all they did was wait these days. Wait for the storm to pass, wait for the bus, wait and look both ways before you cross the street. Honestly. You would've thought that they needed to be away from their mother for who knows how long. Steve looked up to Shaquille,

"Dude, how much longer is this taxi gonna be? I'm starving!"

Shaq answered, "If you ask me again I swear I will grind you through a juicer and then take a pee on your grave stone."

LeBron stared at Shaq. "Man what is wrong with you? He's asking you a question! Just answer!"

"I have no idea. Now don't ask any more questions." Shaq looked like wasn't going to talk to anyone for a while. Dwane looked down at his watch.

"They should be here in a few minutes," he said, hoping that that would ease any hunger or frustration for a least a while.

"And why do we have to stay with old people?" Steve whined. "They smell weird and they need you to repeat everything you say 70 times right up in their face. They're so boring."

"Will you two just shut up!" LeBron screamed. "I have had enough of your freaking arguing! See, look. Here they are now."

But what the four didn't know was that their stay would change their lives forever.

--

The limousine pulled into the driveway of a mansion the size of the White House. A butler scurried to open the door for the new guests.

Shaq exited the monstrosity of a limo first. "Master Shaquille," the butler said in that accent we all give to butlers.

Shaq looked back at his comrades from the porch. He dropped his luggage and shouted to the car, "Ya'll hear that? I'm the master now, ha ha!"

"If you're such a master, then remind what your average free-throw percentage is?" Steve retorted under his breath.

Dwane laughed. "Man, you gon' get yoself killed if you taunt him like that. But I don't care who you are, that's funny right there."

Steve replied, "What can I say, it's a gift."

They all laughed as they walked right into the face of an abnormal lifestyle.