Put a Sock in It II: Griffin's Revenge
For the second time in a week, Griffin repressed the urge to kill one of his two best friends. On hearing of last week's dilemma, Eric instantly broke out into hysterical laughter that didn't abate for a full minute.
"Ah, dude! Brett fulfilled everybody's secret desire last week! I wish I could have been there to see the look on your face the second you tasted his sweat sock!" Eric exclaimed as soon as his uncontainable laughter subsided.
Griffin sighed and continued to glare. He knew the boisterous and thick-headed Eric was a poor choice to turn to for empathy for his unpleasant situation last week, but his family had left again for the weekend. The two friends sat playing a game of checkers and Griffin just had to bring it up before he exploded. And now, look at the big buffoon just laughing himself into a hernia…not a single word or even a gesture of comfort, never mind that when Brett finally untied me it took half a bottle of Listerine to wash out the foul aftertaste of that sock…
Eric finally caught sight of Griffin's glare and shut his mouth instantly, averting his gaze in shame. A few seconds later, Eric offered his friend a warm smile, which, to his relief, Griffin reciprocated. "Soooo…have you thought about taking revenge on Brett for that stunt?" Griffin's face lit up with impish mischief. "Oh, yeah…and I was meaning to ask you if you'd help me…"
Eric grinned and said, "This is gonna be sweet, G-Man! What did you have in mind?" The two friends sat planning a scenario for revenge that lasted for a half an hour. When the plan was finalized at last, Eric and Griffin were ready to carry out Operation Sock in a Jock.
The next evening, Eric invited Brett over to his house to play videogames. Ostensibly, it was just to the two of them home alone, and Brett didn't count on a third guest hidden in the attic and awaiting his cue to descend from his loft and take his place as the guest of honor.
After a few rounds of Mario Kart, Eric put the game on pause the game and left to get some drinks. Brett kicked up his socked feet and relaxed without a care in the world, unaware of the plot brewing around him and about to spring into action very soon…
A few minutes later, Eric crept quietly into the room and suddenly threw a blanket over Brett's head. He took advantage of his friend's temporary incapacitation to skillfully tie his hands and legs to the chair he was sitting in. Brett cried out, "Dude, what the hell's going on?" Eric smiled evilly and pulled the blanket off of Brett's head. "A little matter of revenge, buddy boy," he responded and playfully tweaked his nose, much to Brett's annoyance.
Eric sauntered out of the living room up to the attic and knocked on the door three times. Griffin opened the door and asked, "Everything set?" Eric replied, "He's all yours, G-Man."
Griffin went into the living room, a big grin on his face, and stood victorious in front of the struggling Brett, who looked on his captor with horror and alarm. Griffin casually said, "Howdy." Brett replied, "So, G-Man, how long have you been here?" Griffin said, "A few hours." Brett smiled nervously, deciding to resort to humor as a means of bargaining his freedom. "Hey, G-Man…would you mind untying me? I think the knots might be cutting off the circulation to my hands and feet…"
Griffin screwed up his face in mock serious concentration and answered, "Nah…I have something much better in mind." Brett gulped audibly and said, "Something like what, G-Man?" Griffin stood directly in front of Brett and yelled, in a tone that could have been comical under different circumstances, "Something like revenge, B-Man!"
With that, Griffin pulled a roll of wadded-up cloth from his pocket and shoved it in Brett's still-pleading mouth. The acrid taste of the foul sock was enough to make Brett literally tear up and choke.
"Like it? Eric let me use his sweat sock to jam in your mouth. He wore it for over a week without washing, including three straight days of football practice and a nice long hike in the woods yesterday. I hope that's not too gross for you," Griffin said, reprising his previous captor's remark about his personal hygiene with relish.
Brett attempted to spit the repulsive rag out of his mouth but Griffin was faster and affixed a piece of tape he had ready to his lips before he had the chance. Griffin savored the look of anxious worry and revulsion on his friend's face. He asked, "Well how does it feel now the tables are turned?" Brett mumbled something behind his gag but Griffin chose to ignore it. Circling his prisoner with a steady gait, Griffin said "I could leave you here tied up all night like you left me tied up all day last time, but I have a much better idea in mind for you."
With a twinkle in his eye, Griffin kneeled down and pulled off Brett's ankle socks. Brett looked confused and apprehensive. Griffin noted his befuddled expression and asked, "You're ticklish, aren't you Brett?" A flash of fear crossed Brett's face and he at once began struggling with even greater vigor, but it was all in vain. Griffin continued, "I remember one time last month we were at a pool party and Eric casually ran his fingers over your bare soles as a joke…you nearly jumped a mile!" Griffin scraped his fingernails all over Brett's soles and in-between his toes, driving him half-crazy with tickling. "Kootchy kootchy koo," Griffin tormented.
The tickling went on for nearly an hour, and Eric even joined the fun at one point to hold his smelly boot over Brett's nose to add insult to injury. Eric's foot odor was so strong he thought he would literally pass out, but just before he could enter the world of oblivion Eric would revive him in the nick of time. And all the while, only one thought crossed Brett's mind: I'll never try to one-up G-Man ever again…