(One week later)
Inside Dr. Meinfuch's office stood seven boys fresh from the local state orphanage. The orphanage needed these boys to straighten up so that they could either be adopted into good homes or to be educated so that the state doesn't have to pay for their welfare anymore. The pay the state was giving him was low, $16.00 per hour per child. But he knew that with group therapy, he was still making okay money even if it wasn't the best. And so, each child was sitting around in rusty and well worn folding chairs in his office in nothing but their underwear. In fact, their underwear, currently all tighty whiteys of the cheapest brand the state paid for, could be the answer to their problems. Maybe he could manipulate each boy out of their current underwear and convince them to wear "better" options that would meet their needs. He knew the choices were endless considering he could have his choice of a wide variety of underoos, princess panties, rumba panties, thongs, plastic backed medical briefs, disposable absorbent underwear, special needs training pants, plastic pants with cloth diapers, bed wetting pants, Mormon magic underwear, among others in a wide variety of cuts, colors, patterns, and cartoon prints. The state didn't care what happened to these kids so long as they got results. And with that thought in mind, Dr. Meinfuch, with the help of his comfy machine, had decided that each boy would get a pair of undergarments completely different from the next. That way, the state would have a variety of options for adopting out these kids instead of unruly hellions that would be better suited for juvenile hall (a type of youth prison) over an orphanage.