Shaquille O'Neal sits in shadows. The dimly lit locker room bench cold beneath his mass. A drop of sweat escapes his crown and slithers down his thic face skin. He lifts his chin and locks eyes with you. Opponents. Now you can prepare. Now you must prepare. Shaquille pulls out a two-gallon bucket of Icy Hot. He tactically pulls off the lid. He begins rubbing luxurious handfuls of Icy Hot on his arms. You maintain eye contact.
