It has been hours since Tiny Shorts cleaned these streets. But, because of his 200 hours of mandatory service, he was back at it. The worst part was he had to wear long overalls the entire time. It had been months since he was free to wear his beautiful tiny shorts. He couldn’t complain much though, he met interesting people out there, on the streets.
To his surprise, most people in the program were like him. Not in the short shorts obsessed way, but the superhero way. He met one man that he thought showed great promise. He was a former Frat Boy from the local college that discovered alcohol gave him super strength.
Any time he because intoxicated, he could lift anything. His only weakness, a latex allergy. Mark could never remember his name and just took to calling him, Frat Boy or F-Boy for short. While talking, they discovered they have very similar interests. F-Boy would always talk about the importance of leg day, and Mark just loved to talk about legs and kicks. Sometimes they would just take turns kicking trash into the bags, but often the overalls got in the way.
One day F-Boy stopped showing up. Mark assumed he completed his hours, but missed his friend. Nobody else wanted to kick stuff with him. And they were getting tired of being asked. Picking up trash started to become boring, and he would pick up trash and just think about why he was doing this, just like the judge said.
After an epic defeat of Baggy Pants, Tiny Shorts was walking home when he saw someone trying to rob a liquor store. Because of the superhero Tiny Shorts was he felt this problem was too small for him so he kept walking. The wind blew up his shorts, and he was arrested for indecent exposure. He vowed to never wear his tiny shorts again.
That was until he got the call.
It was the hospital.
“Your brother escaped,” the female voice said.
“You have the wrong number,” and he hung up, not thinking of it anymore. Until he got another call.
“Hello Tiny Shorts,” Mark’s heart dropped. It was Baggy Pants.
“No! I’m Tiny Shorts!”
“But you said, ‘Hello, Tiny Shorts.'”
“No, I said, ‘Hello, it’s Tiny Shorts.'”
“I don’t think you did.”
“No! Whatever, that’s not the point. I’m calling because I have your friend, Steve.”
“Steve, your friend.”
“I don’t know a Steve.”
“Steve! Come here!” There was some shuffling on the other end.
Then there was another voice, “Hey, Mark.”
“F-Boy?” Mark couldn’t believe it. How did Baggy Pants know about Frat Boy? They weren’t even friends on Facebook. But their bond ran so deep, Mark knew he had to act.
“You have until tomorrow night to return my shorts or Steve dies.” Click. And Baggy Pants was gone.
Wow, I’m glad the hospital called the wrong number or I wouldn’t have been here to answer Baggy Pants’ call. But how did he escape from the mental institution? I doesn’t matter now. He is on the streets again.
Tiny Shorts is back for one last mission.