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"Sure," you say. "That sounds like fun. Let me go back to the locker room for a second though." You have no idea what the level of play is here, and you sure don't want to be awful, especially if you end up being the only girl on the court. You go back into your locker and pull out the gun. Quickly looking around to make sure no one sees you, you make sure the setting's still on "transform" and fire at yourself, thinking about yourself just the way you are now, as an extraordinarily hot, athletic woman, only with more basketball skills than any other woman in the world. You smile, thinking to yourself that you're like Keanu Reeves in the Matrix. "I know kung fu." You adjust your bra a little, and head onto the basketball court.
Sure enough, you're pretty fucking great. You jump to take shots and just know when to release, and how hard to throw. When you're dribbling down the court you know exactly when you've got an open pass. You score or make an assist on every play for the first quarter, sinking seven different threes. You're clearly the best player on the court, and everyone knows it. Of course, if you keep playing like this, people might start thinking you're hogging the ball or showing them up.
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