Fairy Tale Spotlight: Billy and the Attacking Underpants

Billy was having a difficult time at work. He showed up on time and came dressed as he was expected to. The first half of the day was not so bad, but it was the second half that gave him a bit of trouble. Now the thing that caused Billy so much trouble was a little embarrassing, but I'm not Billy, so I'm perfectly fine in describing what gave Billy so much trouble. And if Billy reads this, then it's really his problem to deal with henceforth. So let's begin.

During the latter half of his unfortunate day, Billy's underpants began to mercilessly attack him from underneath his work pants. This was, at least, how Billy saw it. The sad thing about this incident was that his underpants attacked him at precisely one and one-half hours before he could leave for the day. So he would have to endure it for an unbearable amount of time.

You may be wondering how underpants can attack someone. You see, Billy purchased his underpants at a store he once thought was reputable. It was the store everyone always went to, and the brand name for said underpants was well-known. So Billy really had no reason to doubt that these underpants were of good quality.

However, it was the case that these underpants ended up bunching up around his junk quite harshly. It was just a bit rough for the first twenty minutes or so, but by the thirty-mark, it was time to do a little straightening in the southern regions of his body. Only thing was... he couldn't really explain his problem to anyone. Billy had already taken one too many bathroom breaks that day. Going once again might need an explanation. How would Billy explain his situation to his fellow associates? This conundrum greatly upset Billy.

The only solution to the problem, as far as Billy was concerned, was that there was no solution at all. And besides, it was the underpants' fault. They were attacking him. They were the ones doing all the bunching. And beyond them, the producers of these underpants must be sitting somewhere with a grin on their collective faces, thinking about all the poor folk at work having their genitals tortured in front of everyone while they walk a bit funny for a time.

Billy wondered if it had been the intention to do this to him all along. Work was stressful enough in regular underpants; why should things get any worse? This was simply unacceptable, yet Billy had no choice but to accept it. And for the remainder of his shift, he walked about with a slightly wider stance to cope with his underpants' relentless assault. Eventually he was allowed to go home, where it wasn't such an unheard of thing to fix such a problem.

As I heard it, Billy never wore those underpants again. He even took the other pairs that came with the first set and tossed them away. He was angry at those underpants. They had utterly failed him. In the sanctity of his room, he swore that nobody should ever know about his humiliation... which is a shame since I've told the story anyways. Now everybody knows the story about how Billy's underpants attacked him. Now everybody knows why he was walking so funny that day. Now everybody knows the price Billy paid when he refused to solve a simple problem in order to save face.

If one looks even a bit further into this tale, they would find out how he tried to douse his injury with 91% isopropyl alcohol. It hurt. It really hurt. Poor Billy. Poor, poor Billy. He should have used Gold Bond. It would have, at least, prevented all that screaming he did once he got home. It's really too bad.

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