Tyrone Jackson and the Half-Court Dunk

By Darren Johnson

Harry Potter meets Boyz n the Hood in this explosive parody!

The new star recruit learns that ball is a lot different when magic is involved. He has the skill to make balla history — if he can get past his ego and stop breaking the rules.

Special Features Include: Bloopers, Commentary, Actor Interviews, and more. Yes, really!

NOTE: probably not for young children due to language.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darren Johnson
• Release date: Nov 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386114765

Book preview

Tyrone Jackson

and the

Half-Court Dunk

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © by Darren Johnson, 2018

Original Sky Photo by Alex Machado on Unsplash

Original Backboard Photo by Andy Hu on Unsplash

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please refer all pertinent questions to the publisher.

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Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Actor Interviews

The Story of Jeff

Bloopers

Did He? Or Didn’t He?

Working with Aloysius Hawkins, Jr.

Chapter 1

THE DEFENDER BLOCKED the shot, sending the ball bouncing toward the gap in the chain link fence just as Demetrius walked in. One of the other players ran over while Demetrius groaned, bent down, and grabbed the ball with his hands. As he straightened back up, he dwarfed the thirteen-year-old standing before him. He stood six-foot-ten even without his enormous afro, which put him at seven-foot-four. Bulging at the waist, he easily weighed five hundred pounds and then some.

Tyrone? Demetrius asked. The boy stared up at him, frozen in fear. Are you Tyrone Jackson?

The boy, eyes wide and mouth agape, shook his head.

Do you know where I can find him?

The boy turned and yelled, Tyrone!

Tyrone and the other players all became quiet and turned to stare at the giant. Demetrius put the ball in the boy’s hand then began walking onto the court.

Oh, shit! Tyrone said before running away.

Tyrone, I just want to talk, Demetrius said as he sped up his walk through the remaining players who all gave him a wide berth. As he turned the corner into the alley, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. It was a typically hot and humid day in July in the Alabama projects, and he wasn’t used to it. He took out a map, studied it for a moment, then put it away. He looked around to see if anyone was watching then reached inside his pocket.

Tyrone was on the other side of the massive complex. As he turned from the alley, he saw Demetrius just ten feet in front of him. What the...?!

Tyrone, I need to speak with you.

Oh, hell nah! Tyrone turned and sprinted back into the alley, made a left at the first junction, and almost ran into Demetrius. How are you doing this?! He again turned and ran back into the alley where Demetrius followed.

Demetrius pulled out a wireless tattoo gun, aimed it at Tyrone, and said, Diplopia! Another Demetrius appeared from around the corner at the other end of the alley, trapping Tyrone between them.

Tyrone frantically turned his head to one approaching Demetrius then the other. Examining his surroundings, he eyed the fire escape whose release latch was just over eleven feet off the ground. He stepped to one side, then ran and jumped off his left foot, used his right to push off the wall, and hit the latch, causing the ladder to drop.

Nice, Demetrius said in approval, but Tyrone was too focused on escaping to hear, disappearing inside the fifth-floor window just moments later.

Tyrone scrambled inside his apartment to his front door where he double-checked the locks.

Tyrone! his aunt Imani yelled from the living room. What are you doing back home?! Ain’t you supposed to be in summer school?!

He returned to the window and looked out. They let us out early.

"My ass they let you out early. You in trouble again, ain’t you. Damn it, Tyrone, what’d you do this time?"

Tyrone shrugged as he remained fixated looking outside.

Don’t shrug at me. And look at me when I’m yelling at you. Hold on, do you feel that?

She muted the TV and they both listened as they heard a repeating thud sound that was getting louder. In a quiet voice, she asked, Is they footsteps? They heard a final thud just outside their apartment. There was quiet for a moment, then a booming knock on their door.

Auntie, no! Tyrone said as she got up from her chair and started for the door.

Why, I ain’t got no reason to be scared.

Please, tell him I’m not here.

I’m not covering for your degenerate ass. She opened the door. Yes? Realizing she was looking straight ahead at a man’s waist, she craned her neck up to see the giant standing before her. Lord have mercy. Whatever he did, he’s yours.

Auntie!

She ignored her nephew and instead led Demetrius into the living room. It’s cramped in here. Watch your head on... everything.

Thank you, I won’t be long. May I sit down? he asked as he lowered himself onto the couch, which creaked and groaned under his weight.

Okay, you got me, now whachu want?

Demetrius turned to the boy, smiled, and held out an envelope.

You’re a balla, Tyrone.

Chapter 2

"YEAH, I’M A BALLA. Tell me something I don’t know, Tyrone said, taking the envelope but stopping before opening it. Hold on, weren’t there two of you? Where’s your twin?"

Demetrius grimaced. Yeah, about that... I’m afraid I used some black magic on you. I cast a spell to make you see two of me. You’ll be learning all about that at Pigtumor School of Magic... for Negroes. We’re still petitioning a name change.

Imani walked over and yanked the unopened envelope out of Tyrone’s hands. Give me that. She opened it and began reading the letter inside.

Tyrone cringed. Are you fo reals? I ain’t going to no school of magic for nerds. Imani smacked him with the envelope.

Demetrius puffed out his gigantic chest. Boy, Pigtumor is only the finest school of magic there is. At least, in the Harlem district. It accepts only the most promising students aged eleven.

"Eleven?! Nigga, I’m fourteen! Imani smacked him again. Ow! How come I ain’t hear about this before?"

I don’t know. We sent you a letter every year since your eleventh birthday. Demetrius and Tyrone both turned to Imani.

What are you looking at! she asked. "Do you know how hard it’s been to raise this kid without magic? Just what I need, you people teaching him all sorts of nasty shit, he comes back here and turns me into a frog or some shit."

"You knew about this, Auntie? You had no right to keep this from me. The only reason I ain’t mad is because I don’t want to go because magic ain’t real."

No, she said, "you ain’t going because I ain’t letting you go."

"What?!" Tyrone and his aunt started cussing each other out, yelling over one another without stopping to take in so much as a breath.

Demetrius let out a long sigh. I may have the solution, he said, though Tyrone and his aunt were too busy shouting at each other to hear it. He pulled out his tattoo gun, aimed at Imani and said, Aphasia!

Imani started mumbling. She covered and uncovered her mouth, tried to speak again, but only mumbles came out. She pointed at Demetrius and made all sorts of rude and threatening gestures at him while attempting to curse him out.

Tyrone cracked up as he pointed at her. He turned to Demetrius. Holy shit, what did you do?

Demetrius leaned forward and handed his tattoo gun to Tyrone. "We call them ‘inkers.’ Think magic wand, only much, much more hip. Of course, you’ll be getting your own if you accompany me back to Pigtumor. Every balla needs his or her own inker to do magic."

Tyrone’s eyes lit up. Hells yeah, I’m in. But what about her? He nodded his head toward Imani, who slumped into a chair with her arms crossed.

Demetrius shook his head. Not to worry. The spell only lasts a few minutes. Now, we can wait here until the spell wears off, or you can go pack so we can bolt.

"Ain’t no way I want to be around for that," Tyrone called back as he ran down the hall to his room. He emerged a minute later with a backpack