Dirk set the box containing Chad down on something hard. Maybe the steps or sidewalk? thought Chad.
He was in the dark box, but it must've been sitting in the sun because Chad was getting hot. He could hear the the clickety-clack of Dirk's hand mower going back and forth. He was baking inside the box. Damn, he wished he could sweat, too bad clothing doesn't sweat. It would be gross to be wrapped around Dirk's sweaty body while he mowed the yard, but Chad told himself that would be better than waiting in the dark hot box. He now understood Cool Hand Luke and the torture of the "box." He was so angry.
A horrible thought hit him. If he was now permanently Dirk's singlet and Dirk was only going to wear him for practice and meets, then 85% of the time Chad would be stored in a drawer, box, closet, locker or gym bag. He didn't like that prospect. Couldn't he be himself 85% of the time and a singlet the rest of the time? Damn, he was bargaining to "improve" an awful situation.
It suddenly struck him that he was going through the grieving process over his fate. The first stage was anger, then bargaining. No way was he ever going to accept this. How had this been done? Magic? Nanobots? His parents would come looking for him. So would his brother. They wouldn't let Dirk get away with this. How would they know? Oh, of course, the video camera that Chad had helped install on the porch, after a couple boxes were stolen. The viedo camera was motion sensitive. His folks or brother would play back the video and see him being sucked into that deliveryman's box. He felt relief and hope for the first time.
The mowing stopped. Chad waited. Maybe Dirk had decided to shower before trying Chad on?
Suddenly, Chad felt his box shift. Someone picked it up, and was moving quickly. The box flew through the air. Chad bounced in the box. Apparently, Dirk had tossed him into the backseat of a car? speculated Chad.
Mariachi music blared. He didn't think Dirk was into that. Oh, oh. If Dirk had left his package on the front step and gone inside, maybe somebody had stolen Chad! If that happened, how would his family ever find him?
Then another thought terrified him. When whoever took the box opened it, and discovered a wrestling singlet instead of a laptop, what would they do with him? Maybe they'd keep or sell him? But he feared his destiny might lie in a landfill.
The music blared. The car drove, stopped, someone got out, another package banged against Chad's box. They were stealing more packages?