Chad dripped dry for about 3 minutes, when Mike returned eating a coffee cake. Crumbs fell on the lounge chair, naked Mike and the pool deck. A few bounced off Chad, as Mike picked up the Speedo and carried it into his house.
Chad dreaded that at any moment, Mike put him on. His dread changed to horror when he realized he was being thrown into a clothes dryer. The door slammed. The drum started to spin, and it got hotter and hotter.
Mike sat down and turned on the TV while finishing the coffee cake. He kind of lost track of the time.
Chad was way past nauseous. His head ached. It was too hot. He couldn't think. Everything was spinning. His memory was a jumble. Damn, he ached for Josh, but Mike sure loved him? Wait, I'm a man. No, I'm a Speedo. M-Mike's Speedo? Chad's Speedo? Just a Speedo? Gawd, I feel so empty, somebody wear me.
Chad's mind was incapable of forming ideas let alone monosyllabic words by the time that Mike extracted the Speedo from the dryer.
"Yow! Hot! Hot! Hot!" Shouted Mike as he tossed Chad from hand to hand like a hot potato. He set the Speedo on the dryer. Then he straightened it out. It had to cool a bit, so Mike decided to take another look at the logo on the pouch.
It no longer had chipmunk cheeks, the guy looked like he was wasted now. A dull expressionless face stared from the pouch, the mouth was slightly open, and Mike half expected drool to leak out. Hey, that face! Thought Mike with a sudden realization.