"How do you spell despicable?" Jackie Stiles asked her teammates. Kristin Folkl spelled it out for her, and Jackie started typing again, her nimble fingers racing over the keyboard like they were on a fast break.

"Did you put in the part where we think they're heartless and cruel and a plague of telemarketers should fall upon all their houses?" Tamicha Jackson asked eagerly.

"Yes and no, TJ. I didn't think a plague of telemarketers would be appropriate somehow," Jackie replied absently as she pondered. "Anyone got a good synonym for destroy? I've already used it three times in this paragraph."

"Annihilate?" Sylvia Crawley suggested.

"Decimate," DeMya Walker said firmly. "Definitely decimate."

"Obliterate," Jenny Mowe chipped in.

"I like that one," Jackie said. "Here, how does this sound? 'We will obliterate any hint of your presence on this earth for what you have done to the league.' Does it give the right impression that we're really pissed off?"

"Well, it sure gives the impression that we're pissed off," Kristin agreed warily. "I don't know if we really want to let them know that we're that angry, though. We could get arrested for this kind of thing, you know."

"Oh, stop being a wuss," Sylvia told her sternly. "We have to do this. We have to do something to get our opinions expressed, and it's obvious that they're not going to listen to us as players, so we have to be secretive about it."

Jenny suddenly gulped loudly. "What's the matter, Jenny?" Ukari Figgs asked. Jenny pointed a trembling finger at the figure that was rapidly coming their way. Ukari took a closer look and yelled, "Jackie, pull out, pull out!"

"Why?" Jackie demanded. "I'm almost done."

"With what?" Coach Linda Hargrove inquired in a dangerously quiet voice. All of the Fire players immediately sidled away from the computer as best as they could. Jackie, of course, was stuck because she hadn't heeded Ukari's warning in time. Seemingly in slow motion, she watched Coach Hargrove skim the letter she had been writing.

When she was done, Coach Hargrove turned to her players. "You mean to tell me you guys have been behind all those threatening messages that have been arriving at the front office and at WNBA headquarters? When we thought it might be terrorists or the KKK, it was you nuts? Why?"

"Because we're pissed off at the league for being so damn cheap," Sylvia said bluntly. "But none of you were listening, so we did it anonymously."

"Oh, for Christ's sake... Come on, we have a game tonight and if you guys still feel like toiling for this league that's treated you so badly, you're going to need to stay in practice." The scorn dripping from her voice was enough to shame most of the team into following her back to the arena.