He let out a heavy breath, similar to one as if he had just done a three pointer against the Miami Heat, tying the game and winning the hearts of millions, and quite a few dollaro’s. Jordan knew he needed a new movie deal to ‘keep it fresh’ with the kids and ‘buy a few more mercedes’. Jordan knew that this could kill a man’s fame, he thought about Shaq being a Genie that one time and shuddered.

He waited at a streetlight in downtown Detroit, just past midnight, the place his movie-deal advisor only seemed to meet. The flickered off and on and he appeared. Clothed in a long black cloak the advisor appeared from the shadows and crept over.

“Ey what chu wan, Jordan,” the advisor spoke, nasally, like a man who wore constantly shining glasses and a pocket protector. He had his hands in his pockets and Jordan could just make out the signature signs of a plaid button-up shirt under the cloak. “My maaaaan,” he added under his breath staring up at the basketball legend.

Jordan chose to forego berating the tiny white guy in front of him and spoke instead on jobs. “I need a movie deal to really get back into the market. You know you see Will Smith and such, he’s not just a superior Rap Artist to everyone else, he’s an underdog actor too.” The advisor nodded along, sharing the unpopular opinions of Michael Jordan. But regardless the advisor grimaced, turning and scratching at his hair, immaculately parted in the middle.

“Yeaaaaah,” he muttered. “I got... something like that.” Jordan perked his ears.

“Let me in on it. This will go just as well as my non-basketball careers did.”

“Yeaaaaaaaah,” The demonic advisor said again, looking away. “So you’re good for it?” Jordan nodded. He knew that nothing bad could happen to a Hollywood A-list superstar. The advisor shrugged and clapped his hands. They both stood there under the streetlight, two lost souls in Detroit, looking for something they knew the other had.

“Well?” Jordan asked.

“I still need to arrange transport, bro.” The advisor took out a phone and began to chat quickly into it, muttering dark words sounding like concrete scratching on concrete.

“Should I even be hearing this?” Jordan asked. His ears started to hurt a little as the short man spoke faster and faster into the flip phone. Finally he was done and closed the phone with a satisfied wrist flip, which Jordan was secretly impressed with. “That’s probably why he keeps it,” he thought.

“Alright,” said shortie, “Just, uh... close your eyes and spin around twice.” Jordan blinked.

“Really? That’s what you came up with?”

“Yes, now do it.” Darkness flashed as the light extinguished, coating Jordan and the street in complete darkness.

“This is stupid,” he muttered as he closed his eyes. Jordan noted that he could see nothing just as much as he could with the streetlight off. Slowly the main-man himself turned around and around in a small circle on a cold december day dealing in dangerous Detroit, devilishly deviating from a detrimental lull in developing his dignified dunking career.

When he opened his eyes he was astonished to find that he was no longer in run-down Detroit, but in the middle of a rustic town. He also noticed that instead of people there were small ponies but he’d seen worse before. He nodded slowly, taking it all in. One thing that struck him as odd was a pony with both wings and a horn, which he knew to be an alicorn because his children watched a show about things like this, was standing in front and twitching as she looked at him.

Jordan’s mind went into quick overdrive. He knew what was happening... he Knew that this was his calling. He strode over to the pony in one giant-man step and pushed her on her back.

“This pony’s having a seizure! She needs mouth to mouth immediately.” Jordan knelt down and stared tenderly as the hairy muzzle of the purple pony. He closed his eyes as he slowly leaned in, ready to give the gift of life to this horse.

“No, stop,” Twilight said hurriedly, rolling away and standing up. “This isn’t right.”

“You were having a seizure,” Jordan said quickly. Twilight shook her head.

“Putting aside a couple issues, such as your medical talent, the validity of CPR, and the creepiness of the whole situation, your kind isn’t supposed to be in Equestria.” Jordan nearly slapped the pony in her supremacist face.

“I don’t think I even need to say anything about that,” he said. Twilight bit her lip.

“That’s not.... uhhhhh, what I meant.” jordan kept quiet, sitting in indignant rage at the pony who was so offended him on the first day of film shooting. “Look, you know that’s not what I meant,” she offered. “I meant humans aren’t allowed here, I killed your God and made it so.”

Jordan laughed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He scratched his chin and spoke plainly. “Listen, this movie isn’t gonna work unless we have Romance or Basketball, so pick one, ma’am.”

Twilight shut her eyes and put a hoof to her cheek, rubbing into the fur and thinking. She had to admit that what the man was saying made absolutely no sense, she didn’t even know what Basketball was, but surely Hoofball was superior in every aspect. Before her eyes the tall man produced a large, orange ball. With a smile he twirled it on a single finger, making her head spin.

“Game on, kid.”

TO BE CONTINUED?