Ryan ached all over from the rough ride in the washing machine, the bleach burns, and the non-anesthetized surgery (Horst's mother's darning). He was alone with his thoughts in the dark drawer. He could hear muffled sounds from somewhere outside the drawer: Horst's family, the television, radio, sirens, etc. Then there was mostly silence. Always it was dark. Ryan tried to sleep. Does underwear sleep. He felt like he'd been awake for days, so much had happened. He was so exhausted, he should sleep.
In the morning, Horst got up. He walked over to his sock and undewear drawer, but stopped himself. It was Saturday. Free balling, and sandals today. Let Ryan stay in the dark and solitude.
Before he left for the water park, Horst almost opened the drawer to say hi to Ryan, but he didn't. Ryan heard movement outside the drawer, but no one opened it. He remained alone in the dark. It seemed quieter today. Ryan prayed that Horst would get his comeuppance for doing this to him.
Providence, karma or misfortune must have been listening. At the water park, Horst slipped, and fell backward off the slide. He fell 3 stories, and had a compound fracture of his leg, as well as a head injury. He was rushed to the hospital and put into an induced coma. The only person who knew where Ryan Standish really was - in Horst's sock and underwear drawer- was unconscious. He would be so for days.
Ryan had no way of knowing what had happened. He only new darkness and silence. He had been awake for 3 or 4 days when he heard the first voice.
"So newbie, what's yer name?" asked the folded boxers underneath Ryan.
"You can talk?" Ryan gasped in disbelief.
"You can talk?" the boxers said in a mocking tone, "Of course, I can talk. You're a dumb jock, I should be surprised that you can hear and speak."
"Who you calling dumb?" growled Ryan.
"Oooh, the jock is getting angry. What ya goin' to do? Punch me with your fists - oh, yeah, you don't got fists no more. Maybe snap me with your elastic strap? Haha, you're a helpless article of clothing now- and forever."
Ryan was silent for a bit. He was seething. Finally, he calmed down and asked, "So Vinnie transformed you too?"
"Vinnie who? Horst changed me into his boxers last year, same way he changed you into his jockstrap."
"No, Vinnie changed me."
"Haha, so Horst convinced you that this Vinnie changed you?"
"Carter and Vinnie and Horst were there, they saw Vinnie change me into his jockstrap," Ryan said in a panic.
"Right, so Horst made the witnesses think that this Vinnie guy changed you, and I bet Vinnie tried but couldn't change you back, right?"
"Yeah, b-b-b-ut Horst is my bud, he wouldn't-? He couldn't have, I would have known if he had magical or alien powers, wouldn't I? We were best friends."
"And your best friend wore you, jacked off into you, spilled bleach on you, and then he left you a dark drawer for days, weeks or months?"
"Wait it's only been a few days - I think?"
"Yeah, sure when was summer football camp? Remember Hank the camp counselor who was missing on the last day?"
"Yeah, that was like six months ago, and Hank cut out because he thought he knocked up the cook's teenage daughter."
"Nuh, uh. I was AWOL on the last day because ran out of clean underwear. He was wearing me under his jeans. I'm Hank, I'm a pair of Horst's boxers now. I thought oh, sure, he needs clean boxers, but when he gets home, he'll surely change me back."
"No, no, no. This cannot be real," thought Ryan, "I must be hallucinating. Sensory deprivation causes hallucinations. Sleep deprivation causes hallucinations."
"Talking jockstraps have to be hallucinations," said Hank.
"Wait! I'm Ryan Standish. I'm a human being."
"Yeah, right?"