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Description
Please, please, please read the author notes before you read this. It’ll make much more sense.

It was a balmy night in August when a man waddled down the street, walking like he had a load in his pants. He walked into the police station and over to the clerk’s desk. “E-excuse me.” He said in a small voice.

The clerk looked down at him. “Can I help you sir?” He asked.

“I need to speak to a detective, I’ve just been tortured.” He sobbed slightly.

A few minutes later, he was recounting his story to the detective. “So,” the detective sighed. “What exactly did they do to you?”

The man shook his head. “It’s too horrible to say.”

“Listen,” the other man said, leaning in closer to the scared man. “I can’t help catch these men without a full description of the events.”

He shook his head again. “They’ll do unspeakable things to me if I tell.”

The detective rolled his eyes. “I’ve already told you sir, they can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe here.”

He sniffed slightly. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” He paused. “They… they…”

“Yes, yes, go on.”

“They rubbed the inside of my thighs with sand paper!” He sobbed loudly. “I’ll be chafing forever!”

~

Two nights later…

An important looking news announcer appears on screen. “The government has received word that a new gang has formed in Niagara Falls. This gang has been in operation for months and it has been found that their torture methods are very sever. Here is Linda Shannon with the details.” The camera zooms in on the news anchor’s face. “There are graphic portions of this story that may not be suitable for children. Now over to Linda.”

“Thank you, Dick.” She smiled.

“Um, my name is Rick.” Announcer protests.

Linda rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” She clears her throat. “A few months ago, this gang was nothing, barely even news worthy. But now, with thirteen drive-by hecklings and five Pottery Barn robberies, they are a force to be reckoned with. Two days ago, a man showed up at a Niagara police station, claiming that he was kidnapped and tortured by this fiendish gang.

“The form of torture that was used on him is very unique, and highly unmistakable. It was said that the gang members rubbed sandpaper on the inside of his thighs, so now, no matter what he does, his thighs always chafe.” She said seriously. “If anyone has any information on this gang or the whereabouts of its members, please call the telephone number appearing on your screen now.” After a moment. “Back to you, Dick.”

“It’s Rick!” He said in a very un-news anchor-like tone. “Eh-hem. With us tonight, we have police chief Andrews; he is here to inform us on what is being done about this vicious new threat.” He turns to the other man. “Chief, please explain what the police department is doing about this gang.”

Over to the police chief. He sighs. “Well, I can’t really tell you what we’re doing, but I can say that because of the brave first victim to come forth, we now have three more complaints of torture from this gang.”

The anchorman nods. “I see, and what is being done to assist these people? Are they being put into witness protection?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.” The police chief shook his head. “No, we’re providing them with giant cushioning pads for their legs, to keep their thighs from chafing so often. If they see how we’ve reacted to this form of torture, the gang will most likely find their efforts useless and disband.”

The anchorman is confused. “Does the police department really think that will work?” He asks.

The chief nods. “Of course! We at the police department take cases of torture very seriously.”

“But, oh never mind, back to you Linda.” He sighed.

“Thank you, Dick.”

“Rick!”

Linda continues on. “That’s all for the evening news, we’ll see you tomorrow night.”

A Few Days Later, on a Crowded Street…

“Rico!” He smacks the other man on the arm. “Look! There he is!”

“Who?” Rico asks, looking to where Tommie is pointing.

He was pointing to a man with a grey coat. “The jerk that squealed on us to the cops!” He looked at his friend. “Let’s call the others. We’ll finish him off good.”

Rico smirked evilly. “Yeah, call them all here. And tell Jerry to bring the sand paper and the cheese grater.”

A few minutes later, more men are assembled, ready to strike. “Okay, let’s get him!” Rico shouted, ready to lunge towards the man.

“Wait a second.” Louis, the great don of their little mob, said, holding the other man back. “Why did you call us all here? Don’t you see what he’s wearing?”

Tommie and Rico looked back at the man. “Um, a grey jacket?” Tommy suggested.

“No! You morons didn’t notice his legs.” Louis said. They all looked; the man had giant puffy legs, almost like his pants were full of padding.

“So?” Rico said. “What does that mean?”

Louis sighed. “It means that we can’t use the sandpaper on his legs. He’s untouchable!” All the other men groaned.

Tommie looked around. “But, we can just go shoot him.”

Louis shook his head. “No we can’t, with that padding, he is practically invincible.”

“But I have a gun right here!” Tommie yelled. “I’ll just walk up and shoot him!”

“That is not our way.” Another man said.

“Steve is right; we must wait until we can use the sand paper and the cheese grater.” Louis said.

Tommie’s eyes were wide. “But he’s peeing on your car! Why can’t we just kill him?”

“Huh,” Louis said. “He’s peeing? How did he get his fly open with those massive leg shields?”

“Who cares!”

But Louis was ignoring Tommie. “Does anyone have any ideas on how we can get a chance to torture him?”

“I know!” Steve said happily. “We can wait until he takes a shower, he’ll have to take them off then!”

Louis smiled. “Right you are. Let us go lay in wait!”

They all marched off, leaving Tommie behind. After a long moment, Tommie dropped his gun. “What the hell!” He shouted.

The End

Description
Please, please, please read the author notes before you read this. It’ll make much more sense.

It was a balmy night in August when a man waddled down the street, walking like he had a load in his pants. He walked into the police station and over to the clerk’s desk. “E-excuse me.” He said in a small voice.

The clerk looked down at him. “Can I help you sir?” He asked.

“I need to speak to a detective, I’ve just been tortured.” He sobbed slightly.

A few minutes later, he was recounting his story to the detective. “So,” the detective sighed. “What exactly did they do to you?”

The man shook his head. “It’s too horrible to say.”

“Listen,” the other man said, leaning in closer to the scared man. “I can’t help catch these men without a full description of the events.”

He shook his head again. “They’ll do unspeakable things to me if I tell.”

The detective rolled his eyes. “I’ve already told you sir, they can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe here.”

He sniffed slightly. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” He paused. “They… they…”

“Yes, yes, go on.”

“They rubbed the inside of my thighs with sand paper!” He sobbed loudly. “I’ll be chafing forever!”

~

Two nights later…

An important looking news announcer appears on screen. “The government has received word that a new gang has formed in Niagara Falls. This gang has been in operation for months and it has been found that their torture methods are very sever. Here is Linda Shannon with the details.” The camera zooms in on the news anchor’s face. “There are graphic portions of this story that may not be suitable for children. Now over to Linda.”

“Thank you, Dick.” She smiled.

“Um, my name is Rick.” Announcer protests.

Linda rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” She clears her throat. “A few months ago, this gang was nothing, barely even news worthy. But now, with thirteen drive-by hecklings and five Pottery Barn robberies, they are a force to be reckoned with. Two days ago, a man showed up at a Niagara police station, claiming that he was kidnapped and tortured by this fiendish gang.

“The form of torture that was used on him is very unique, and highly unmistakable. It was said that the gang members rubbed sandpaper on the inside of his thighs, so now, no matter what he does, his thighs always chafe.” She said seriously. “If anyone has any information on this gang or the whereabouts of its members, please call the telephone number appearing on your screen now.” After a moment. “Back to you, Dick.”

“It’s Rick!” He said in a very un-news anchor-like tone. “Eh-hem. With us tonight, we have police chief Andrews; he is here to inform us on what is being done about this vicious new threat.” He turns to the other man. “Chief, please explain what the police department is doing about this gang.”

Over to the police chief. He sighs. “Well, I can’t really tell you what we’re doing, but I can say that because of the brave first victim to come forth, we now have three more complaints of torture from this gang.”

The anchorman nods. “I see, and what is being done to assist these people? Are they being put into witness protection?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.” The police chief shook his head. “No, we’re providing them with giant cushioning pads for their legs, to keep their thighs from chafing so often. If they see how we’ve reacted to this form of torture, the gang will most likely find their efforts useless and disband.”

The anchorman is confused. “Does the police department really think that will work?” He asks.

The chief nods. “Of course! We at the police department take cases of torture very seriously.”

“But, oh never mind, back to you Linda.” He sighed.

“Thank you, Dick.”

“Rick!”

Linda continues on. “That’s all for the evening news, we’ll see you tomorrow night.”

A Few Days Later, on a Crowded Street…

“Rico!” He smacks the other man on the arm. “Look! There he is!”

“Who?” Rico asks, looking to where Tommie is pointing.

He was pointing to a man with a grey coat. “The jerk that squealed on us to the cops!” He looked at his friend. “Let’s call the others. We’ll finish him off good.”

Rico smirked evilly. “Yeah, call them all here. And tell Jerry to bring the sand paper and the cheese grater.”

A few minutes later, more men are assembled, ready to strike. “Okay, let’s get him!” Rico shouted, ready to lunge towards the man.

“Wait a second.” Louis, the great don of their little mob, said, holding the other man back. “Why did you call us all here? Don’t you see what he’s wearing?”

Tommie and Rico looked back at the man. “Um, a grey jacket?” Tommy suggested.

“No! You morons didn’t notice his legs.” Louis said. They all looked; the man had giant puffy legs, almost like his pants were full of padding.

“So?” Rico said. “What does that mean?”

Louis sighed. “It means that we can’t use the sandpaper on his legs. He’s untouchable!” All the other men groaned.

Tommie looked around. “But, we can just go shoot him.”

Louis shook his head. “No we can’t, with that padding, he is practically invincible.”

“But I have a gun right here!” Tommie yelled. “I’ll just walk up and shoot him!”

“That is not our way.” Another man said.

“Steve is right; we must wait until we can use the sand paper and the cheese grater.” Louis said.

Tommie’s eyes were wide. “But he’s peeing on your car! Why can’t we just kill him?”

“Huh,” Louis said. “He’s peeing? How did he get his fly open with those massive leg shields?”

“Who cares!”

But Louis was ignoring Tommie. “Does anyone have any ideas on how we can get a chance to torture him?”

“I know!” Steve said happily. “We can wait until he takes a shower, he’ll have to take them off then!”

Louis smiled. “Right you are. Let us go lay in wait!”

They all marched off, leaving Tommie behind. After a long moment, Tommie dropped his gun. “What the hell!” He shouted.

The End