Put a Sock in It!

Brett was staying over at Griffin's house for the weekend, and although they had the place to themselves, Griffin was yet again in a sour mood and seemed determined to drag his cheery friend with him.

Brett, however, had had a good day so far and would let Griffin's moaning and griping get to him. For a while, he tried to ignore Griffin while reading a comic book but even that wouldn't shut him up—Brett soon realized his pal would keep shooting off his mouth regardless if anyone listened or not. Brett was about to retort "Put a sock in it, G-Man," as usual—but just before the words rolled off his tongue, an idea had formed in his mind to not only shut up his pal but to also bring him down a peg. He grinned evilly to himself and went off to get a few things to carry out his ingenious (at least for a modest guy like Brett) plan.

Brett walked into the guest room where he was staying and went over to his duffle bag. Brett opened the duffle and took out a few pieces of rope and a roll of his athletic tape, from which he tore off a strip of tape a few inches long. He placed the tape and the ropes on the dresser within arms reach and then pulled out the heavy wooden chair from the desk and set it in the middle of the room. Brett then went back to his duffle and fished out one of his dirty athletics socks from the depths of his bag. He put the sock to his nose, inhaled, and his face scrunched in revulsion. Brett balled up the sock and placed it with his other tools on the dresser.

Next, Brett removed the pillowcase from one of his pillows and hid in a corner of the room, a place where Griffin would be sure not to see him. He opened the door a crack and was greeted to his friend's ranting. Brett thought G-Man is so oblivious, he doesn't even realize I left the living room…this is going to be easier than I thought!

Brett turned off the light and called in a clear, loud voice, "Yo, G-Man! I think the light bulb in my room burned out! Could you give me a hand?"

Griffin stopped in the middle of his rant (his choice of the day was the copious amount of homework he'd received for the weekend) and called back "Coming!" His soliloquy cut short, Griffin contented himself with grumbling under his breath about the newest problem in his life as he trudged to the guest room. Griffin opened the door and let himself in, looking up at the light. He was so focused on examining the bulb that he didn't notice Brett quietly skulking up behind him…

Brett took a deep breath and brought the pillowcase over his friend's head, then immediately grasped Griffin in a strong grip, with both his arms locked around his torso to keep his arms immobile. Griffin screamed and struggled at the sneak attack, but Brett, stronger and with the element of surprise on his side, was in control.

His athletic senses quickly activated, Brett quickly maneuvered Griffin to the chair and forced him onto it. He grabbed a couple of available coils of rope from the dresser. He tied Griffin's hands to the armrests of the chair, knotting them skillfully. Next, he lashed Griffin's feet to the legs of the chair. Once he checked the knots were secure, Brett grabbed the sock from the dresser and removed the pillowcase from Griffin's head. Griffin was barely able to shout "What are you doing?" before Brett had stuffed the filthy sock in his mouth. Griffin made a disgusted face at the taste of the gag but could not spit it out, as Brett had his hand clamped firmly over Griffin's lips.

Brett said, "I think it's about time you learn to shut that mouth of yours—I've had to listen to your whining all day long, and I'm sick and tired of it!" Griffin protested but his cries fell on deaf ears. Brett reached out and grabbed the piece of tape, which he then affixed to Griffin's mouth to hold the gag in. He then stepped back and casually admired his handiwork.

Even with his anger at this humiliating scenario, Griffin was still able to note wryly the irony of his occasionally muttering at Brett to "put a sock in it" over the years was not only not lost on him, but it had come back to bite him in the butt, much to his great displeasure. For the moment, Griffin would have to contend with squirming in his bonds while thinking of an escape plan.

Brett stepped over to Griffin and winked at him. "Comfy? The sock I stuffed in your mouth hasn't been washed for a week or so; I hope that isn't too gross for you…"

Griffin muttered and cursed into his gag, but all his muffled protests did was bring out the nasty flavor of the sock, much to Brett's uncontained amusement.

"Go ahead and rant all you like, G-Man, this time, it's not gonna do you any good," Brett admonished his captive in a sing-song tone. He went across from Griffin and sat on the bed, a big smile planted on his face. "I'm glad my days in the Boy Scouts finally paid off. You're never getting free from those knots—that is, unless I untie you myself!"

Griffin looked on with fury at the smug face in front of him and once again tried to free himself by squirming, first quickly and then slowly and once again met with failure on both attempts. Things did not look good for Griffin, who slowly began to realize he was Brett's prisoner for however long Brett wanted.

Brett, meanwhile, decided to take in an afternoon snooze. For once, Griffin wasn't aggravating him and he'd been effectively stifled. He closed his eyes and drifted off to a light slumber, putting his head back and basking in the newfound silence.

Griffin, meanwhile, was busy consoling himself with the thought that his predicament was not permanent and he would be let go in just a little while. The notion of revenge against his crafty but lovable jock pal burned at the back of his mind, and Griffin promised that it would definitely come, just as unexpected and just as wicked as Brett's little scheme...