The Game is a bit of a hypocrite.
"You know what you do?" he posited with a mischievous look on his face. "I'll tell you what you do."
Before continuing, he looked to his right in what we can only assume was in an effort to build suspense. It worked.
"You cut it in half," he explained as he turned back to look at the camera. "Cut it, you don't need to burn it. You might burn your house on fire, and we don't want your neighbors thinking you're an arsonist or nothing like that."
Touche, Game. Thanks for looking out. It means a lot to Hollywood loyalists that you care that they care about how much their neighbors care. Really, it does. Smokey Bear couldn't have even put it more eloquently.
Only he wasn't done.
"You cut it in half," he reiterated. "Then what you tell people that ask 'What is that,' well you say 'I have not one, but I have two Dwight Howard jerseys' because his [jersey] number is 12. One. Two."
Get it? Good, I was worried that his sense of humor was a bit too sophisticated for the average American.
Back to The Game, though, who offered a more serious sentiment immediately following his numerical paradox of sorts.
"You wish him farewell," he said. "The Lakers have been alright before Dwight, we're going to be alright after."
How emboldening. First he responsibly implores the public not to set Superman's jerseys ablaze for fear of them torching their own home, then he provides the Lakers fanbase with an optimistic shoulder to lean on.
Wait for it...
"No, I'm burning my [expletive]," he declared when asked if he would practice what he preached.
There you have it. The Game cares about your safety, your neighbor's perception of how you carry yourself and about your continued faith in the Lakers. But he also assumed such a stance while essentially striking a match and setting fire to his own Howard jersey.
Turns out it's him that needs a refresher and/or crash course in the scorching knowledge (pun intended) Smokey has been slinging. He also might want to take a few moments to look up the term "credibility" in the dictionary, you know, before he brings his Dwight jersey down to the incinerator we can only assume he has in his basement.
Whatever he ultimately decides, hopefully he follows at least a part of his own advice and doesn't reduce his crib to pile of ash. Losing one's home on account of shameless duplicity is just the worst.