"Jock Spray?" read Chad aloud.
"Well, it does make you smell like a jockstrap alright," Todd laughed. He jabbed Chad in the side, and Chad buckled like he was a rag doll. "Whoa, Chad, you okay?" Todd asked reaching for Chad who was lying on the locker room floor.
The closer Todd reached, the farther away Chad seemed to get, and the paler he seemed to get. When his hand finally reached Chad, Todd found himself clutching a jockstrap. He stood up and brought the jockstrap up to his face for a better look. He could vaguely make out the impression of Chad's face in the empty pouch. Chad's lips seemed to move making the word "Help."
THWAP!
The back of Assistant Coach Morgan Dirk's hand connected with the back of Todd's head.
"I don't care how it smells, put the jockstrap on and get your ass out on the court, now Todd!"
"Yes, Coach!" Todd answered, and hurriedly put the jockstrap on, and grabbed his gear from the locker next to Chad's. He was ready for basketball practice, and about to lock his locker, when he remembered Chad.
He pulled open his waistband, and said, "Sorry, dude, I'll try to figure out something after practice." He snapped the waistband shut, and grabbed the can of Jock Spray, and stashed it in his locker, then locked it. He ran toward the gym entrance and basketball practice.