So, you’re Donald Sterling. You’re a multi-kajillionaire who loves lawsuits and lousy basketball teams. You own a franchise that through your own ineptitude miraculously landed Blake Griffin and were then gift-wrapped a hall of fame point guard in a sign-and-trade of your soul to the devil.

Despite your out-and-out stumblefuckery that led your team to being one of the laughingstocks of professional sports for decades, you’ve finally managed to rid yourself of your horrendously hired Vinny Del Negro, land a great coach, and find yourself poised to deliver a deep playoff run that will pay massive dividends.

But it turns out you’re racist. Like, really, really, virulently racist. We’re talking cheering-for-DiCaprio-in-Django Unchained racist. And you just got nailed for it. Your liver-spotted, billionaire hands were caught buried up to your wrists in your Paula Deen cookie jar.

Here’s the audio of that “private” convo you had with your girlfriend.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZh6WGbZUvA

Uh-oh.

Now, most people already were highly aware that your were a Grade A douchebag. For most people, this audio tape is more like the crappy plot twist at the end of Hide and Seek with Bobby De Niro than the holyshitTHAT’SKeyserSoze?!?! moment from The Usual Suspects. But still, this isn’t good, Donald.

So the question is, what do you do? It’s time to choose your own adventure, Donald Sterling!

If you choose to take your private jet to your Cayman Island tax-shelter-home and lay low for the rest of the playoffs: Go to Page 1.

If you decide that you need to put on a brave, highly plastic-surgeried, face and take this thing on head-on by going to your home playoff game on Tuesday night: Go to Page 2.

(*Author’s note: once you’re in the gallery view, use the “ESC” key to get out and select the next page.)

FIN