"My judgment remains the same. Charles, you dare bet against me? If Jack gets the MVP, I'll not only kiss the donkey's ass, I'll kiss its mouth too. If Jack doesn't get it, you'll kiss it with me."
Kenny Smith taunted Barkley: "What? You scared? Aren't you supposed to be so brave? Don't you know all about the game of fame and fortune?"
Anyone who had just turned on their TV would definitely think they'd tuned to the wrong channel. This wasn't a live basketball game; it was clearly a nature show.
"Fine! Kenny! I'll take that bet, but you have to promise to kiss the donkey's ass first, then its mouth, and you have to hold it for ten seconds." Barkley laid down his own harsh terms.
"You're on."
Smith agreed in a heartbeat.
And he was overjoyed.
He was trying to drag Barkley down with him. Kissing a donkey's ass alone would be humiliating. But if two people did it, it wouldn't be so shameful.
"It's a deal." The two quickly sealed their pact.
