Death to pants! Death to pants! The man on stage chanted the anti-pants sentiments into the bullhorn and paced back and forth. The packed stadium cheered and roared. They repeated the chant, soon growing in sync. The area rocked with the boom of thousands of voices at once, the beat of people stomping the base for the chant against the hated piece of clothing.

The man took a deep breath, and then spoke into the bullhorn. Today, we shall see the end of-sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows. Everything thats wonderful is what I feel when, were together.

Richie bolted up in bed and gave a hard slap to his alarm clock. Damn it! The clock slid off the nightstand and landed on the ground hard, where it kept playing.

Damn damn damn! Richie slid off his bed and ran over and grabbed the clock. He quickly flipped the switch to turn the alarm off. The radio and its annoying song cut off, returning the room to its previous silence.

Richie looked around, then sighed and grumbled as he headed for the door to the hallway. Horrible way to wake up.


Richie slid down the banister and hopped off the end to land with a slight stumble on the hardwood floor by the front door. He was dressed in his preferred dress: A black t-shirt, an authentic Scottish kilt, and a pair of dirty black flip flops, no socks.

People often wondered about the kilt. They expected him to speak like Sean Connery, or at least some of his relatives to do so. The fact was, his family wasnt Scottish, it was German. The kilt was for comfort, not heritage.

Im out of here! He called to anyone in the house that wanted to hear.

Someone did hear, and was not too happy about it. You missed breakfast Richard! His large called from the kitchen. She half walked, half waddled out of the kitchen, her usual flour covered apron wrapped around her bulging waistline.

She thrust the shiny silver wrapper of a package of pop tarts into her sons hands before giving him a kiss on the cheek and shoving him out the front door. Go to school and get an education you lazy thing!

Richie chuckled as he stumbled out the front door and hopped over the three porch steps and onto the front walk.

Take it easy, Mom! Richie called back as he jogged down the front walk and to the sidewalk. He turned and began towards the bus stop at the corner of the street. He opened his pop tarts along the way and idly munched on the corner of one as he thought up his plan. He had long planned to spread the word of the end of trouser confinement, he know thought he had the plan ready, he just lacked the manpower.

Right on time.

The voice broke his thoughts, and he looked up with a smile. Of course, best time to be here.

Cristian gave a chuckle, Thats true. Cristian, or Cris as he was more commonly known as, was the example of a Hispanic immigration success story. His grandfather and grandmother immigrated in illegally and were granted amnesty after about a year of living there. The got citizenship and worked as hard as they could to afford a nice place for their kids. Their children got to go to two year colleges, and thus they could get jobs to afford them the opportunity to send their children to good four year colleges.

Richie was almost jealous, his Hispanic friend would get to college by his parents money while he was filling out the applications for a student loan. Damn lazy non Mexican parents.

So, looking forward to school today? Cris said with a grin as he adjusted the backpack on his back. It was some generic backpack, his parents didnt see the need for luxuries where they were needed. Cris wore nothing special, just a clean black t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans.

The jeanshow can I be friends with guy thats a pants wearer? Richie thought to himself idly.

Actually, yes, Richie answered Cris with a grin.

Cris raised an eyebrow, then shook his head. Im not sure I want to know.

Richie laughed, In due time my pro pants friend, in due time.



Richie gave a heavy breath as he sat down in his school desk right as the bell rang. Right on time again, he was having a rather lucky day.

He opened his backpack and pulled out a spiral notebook as a teacher when over the names. The notebook was not for class, oh no, it was his planning notebook. He opened it up to the middle, where crude sketches of flaming pants and swords stabbing through pants were spread across the page. It was a doodle page, his plans were further back.

A strange sense brought him back to the real world. Here! He said as he raised his hand.

The elderly woman with a head full of silver curls designated with the ever so esteemed title of high school geography teacher gave him a questioning look.

Richard Allen Charleston?

He gave a nod, Yep!

The teacher gave him a slight glare, and then checked him present in her green paged roll book. Please pay more attention next time Mr. Charleston, I called your name at least three times before you answered.

Rightey-o, he replied with a grin.

The teacher gave a shake of her head and went back to calling roll. She would learn soon enough that he had the attention span of a rabid chipmunk, but then again, after long, everyone would know him.

He simply needed more recruits. He would be more than happy to delve into the female population for aid against the force known as pants or trousers, but woman that claimed such a title could be mistaken for whores, she it was rare to find good female help for the cause.

A male then, but who? His eyes scanned the room. All of them were wearing shorts, not another kilt among them. Surely there was one person in the class that could help though. His eyes focused on a rather skinny and lonely looking kid stuffed in one of the back corners. He looked highlycorruptible. He would be perfect.

Richie smiled and carefully thumbed through his notebook to overlook his plans until the end of class.

The end of class came in but a short time (if you consider living though the Hebrew exodus short! Grah! Damn you Andes Mountains!) and Richie was one of the first out. He pushed his way out into the hallway, and then turned to seek his chosen sucker.

The unfortunate victim was slow to come out, because he had decided to stop and have a leisurely chat with the teacher. Richie gave a heavy sigh and leaned up against a locker as he waited.

Richie was glad to see Cris coming down the hall, of course, the second his salvation from boredom showed his face, the teacher talking runt ended his chat and stepped out into the hallway.

Richie gave a friendly smile and strolled up to guy as he was pulling out the key to his master lock. The guy blinked, then looked over his shoulder at Richie.

What?
Richie grinned, Youre going to help me with something, Brents. The name just kind of slipped off his tongue, he remembered now hed had a biology class with the guy before. Joey Brents was smart, damn smart. He would be perfect.

I want your help with something.

Joey gave a shake of his head. I remember what kind of help you want, Im not going to get in trouble for helping you again.

Oh come on, Richie said with a roll of his eyes, you cant still be mad about the incident with the starfish.

Joey glared, You got me to cut off its gonads and then proceeded to run around the room giggling like a schoolgirl as you tossed them at people.

Richie giggled like a little girl at the memory. The images of him tossing the gonads at people and yelling things like free the nads of all! was still amusing. It was terribly childish, but amusing. Too bad the teacher had to return and ruin his fun.

Joey snorted and opened his locker. Im not helping you with anything, Richie, Joey said as he grabbed his books and shut his locker.

Nope, you are helping; you just havent realized it yet. Richie put a hand on Joeys shoulder. Meet me in the cafeteria during lunch, we have things to discuss. Richie gave Joey a wink, and then moved over to walk with Cris to his next class.

Joey watched the two walk off, then sighed. Why me?


Lunch came after what felt like a decade of Algebra. The bells rang and the kids flooded the cafeteria, each in search of tasty morsels to eat. Some kids (ones most kids would consider lucky) got a pleasantly bagged lunch from home. The others were forced to put out some money for their assortment of frozen vegetables, mysterious goops, and midget sized deserts.

Cris was the former, Richie the latter.

I think my dog hocked up something like this once, Richie said as he used his plastic fork to prod the goop of the day: yellow and chunky. Trying to put a name on something like that might require tasting it, and Richie wasnt that dumb. Youre lucky to get a bagged lunch.

Cris chuckled, Damn straight, he pulled out a crme filled cupcake and a Twinkie. No goop for me. He tossed the Twinkie at Richie. Cris didnt like them, but he didnt tell his mom that. She kept packing them, so he kept giving them to Richie.

Richie caught the Twinkie and looked it over. You know, Im starting to see a family resemblance between the Twinkie and the goop. Maybe thats why the Twinkie is indestructible.

Cris chuckled, Maybe thats why I dont like them.

Richie gave a light chuckle and looked around. Where was Brents? He was late for lunch. Was he avoiding him?

Richie stood up and looked around. Hmm. He scanned the cafeteria closely, and then saw him. He was tucked away in a corner, eating by himself. Gotcha. Follow me, Cris. Before Cris could ask, Richie stood up and walked towards Joeys table. Cris gave a shake of his head and followed.

Hola, Brents, Richie said cheerfully as he sat across from Joey. Cris took a seat beside him. Ive been looking for you; I think you forgot that I wanted to talk to you.

Joey eyed both of them from behind his ham and cheese on Rye. I didnt forget. He said with a slight grumble.

Oh, you mustve just not seen us them. Richie grinned and put his notebook on the table. Now, I need to discuss some plans I have.

Joey gave a shake of his head and started to stand, I dont want a part of your stupid plans.

You know, youre the scourge of clean undies everywhere, Richie said almost idly.

Joey froze, then glanced about to see if anyone had heard before he sat back down. Who the hell told you about that? He hissed.

It doesnt matter, because youre going to help me with my plans. Unless youd rather me tell a few people about Mr. Accident

Joey growled, I hate you.

Richie chuckled and opened his notebook. Perfect. He turned to a page and slid the notebook across to Joey. Youre going to help me execute this.

Joey gave Richie a scrutinizing look, then started to look over the plans scribbled into the notebook. He blinked and looked up at Richie with and bewildered look. What the hell is wrong with you?

Richie laughed, Lots. So, you in, or do I spread the word?

Joey gave a shake of his head and pointed the Cris. Why cant he do it?

Richie sighed, Hes pro pants, itll never work.

And too smart, Cris added.

Joey gave an exasperated look. Im pro pants too! And too smart!

Richie laughed, But thats the nature of blackmail. So, you ready to do this?

Joeys mouth was moving, but he was having trouble finding just the right words. Fuck you, Ill do it!

Richie laughed, Great! Now, lets go over the plans so everyones on the same page.


A week is only as long as a person doesnt want it to be. A dreaded weekend with crazy relatives makes for a short week. A weekend of fun in the sun makes for a very long week. Joey was having the shortest week of his life, Richie the longest.

They continued to go over their plans. The plans were really simple, nothing particularly fancy, but two people were needed, and poor Joey was the second man.

Cris was there the whole time, just thoroughly amused by the whole thing, though hed never actually get involved in something so crazy. That didnt mean he couldnt find the whole thing amusing.

Finally, after a week of lunchtime planning, Friday came, and the big football game. Richies school was weird about their football team. The Rabid Ferrets (whom had not chosen their own names, for that was the fault of a former superintendent) were likely the worst team in the county. They were lucky to win two games a season. Yet as much as they sucked, the people still showed up en masse to watch the games. Perhaps it was the lack of anything better to do, or perhaps it was the thrill of possibly being there for one of the rare wins, but whatever it was, it packed the bleachers.

It was at the football game that the plan would be put into action.

Cris, Richie, and Joey sat in the lower bleachers and idly watched the game. It was an ever so thrilling game with the Rabid Ferrets nearly catching two passes in the first half!

Finally, half-time came around, and the plan was set forth.

Its go time, Richie said with a nod to Joey.

Please dont make me do this.

Joey craps-

OK! Joey interrupted Richie before he could say more. He sighed and stood. It shouldnt take too long, be ready.

Richie grinned, Can do. He laughed and ran out of the bleachers.

Joey sighed and looked at Cris, who just grinned. He rolled his eyes and started up the bleachers.

The cheerleaders flipped onto the field and started their halftime routine as Kiss Me Baby One More Time came on. There were a number of groans from the crowd at the song choice, but most of the guys werent interested in the song, so they didnt mind all that much.

An abrupt stop in the music interrupted the cheerleader routine and the staring routine alike. The crowd murmured, assuming it was someone in the both that accidentally pushed the wrong button or something.

The hissing of static on the intercom seemed to confirm their suspicions. That is, until the chanting started.

Death to pants! Death to pants! Death to pants! A voice cried out over a roaring crowd. It was Richies voice, superimposed over the sound of a roaring crowd.

The crowd looked to one another, clearing confused. Then there came the shout as someone noticed a bright orange light making its way towards the field. The crowd murmured loudly, everyone taking guesses of what it was. Guesses ranged from a giant lighting bug to alien invaders, the crowd wasnt the smartest bunch around. Perhaps that was the real reason the people packed the stadiums to see the Rabid Ferrets.

The light approached quickly, and finally it could be made out by those closest to it: It was a young man in a black shirt and a pair of khakis carrying what appeared to be a homemade torch in one hand and a bullhorn in the other. He was running straight for the fifty yard line.

The cheerleaders screamed and scrambled to get out of the way of the fire wielding young man.

The man stopped when he reached the middle of the field and raised his torch up high. The chanting stopped, all was silence. The man calmly raised his bullhorn to his lips, and spook to the stunned crowd.

I am here to bring an end to the tyranny of trouser! Richies voice boomed through the megaphone. Death to pants! Death to pants! He started to chant. Unlike his dream, the crowd didnt pick up the chant. Luckily, Joey turned the tape back on in an attempt to save Richie some embarrassment

Richie shook his head and grumbled, Pants lovers. He tossed the bullhorn aside and raised his torch up high. He then lowered the torch to the oil soaked trousers her wore. Richie had remembered that oil had a lower ignition point, so they would burn slow enough so he could get them off, right?

Richie realized his folly when the pants ignited quickly and he could feel the intense heat burning his legs.

FUUUUUCCCKK!! Richie shouted in horror as he charged for the concession stand.



Richie moaned and opened his eyes. White, the room was so white.

Oh my poor baby, came the sound of his mothers voice. She leaned over him. Are you ok, Richie? She said in a worried and soothing tone.

Uhhhjust dandy, he mumbled as he tried to get his bearings. He remembered bits and pieces of things. He remembered the Gatorade bath the confused concession workers gave him in effort to put out the flaming pants. It had taken forever to get the pants put out, or at least it felt like forever.

Im so relieved, his mother said as she released a heavy breath. She smiled down at him and then smacked him in side of the head. What the hell is wrong with you?

Ow! He whimpered, I thought I would be able to get them off in time!

His mother was ready to smack him again, but the doctor entering saved Richie the pain.

Ah, I see youre finally awake. You were out sometime; we had to give you a lot of medicines for the pain.

Richie grumbled and shifted the lightweight sheet over him. Pain sucks.

The doctor gave a nod as he looked over Richies chart. Well, youd better get used to it, because youre going to be hurting for awhile. Your legs are badly burnt. We ended up having to put some skin grafts down to help promote the growth of new skin.

Richie blinked, then lifted up the sheets to look down at his legs. Really? The idea of a dead persons skin on his legs wasnt that creepy to him, more interesting than anything.

Yes, but you have to be careful that the grafts stay in place. So, Im going to need you to avoid tight clothing around your legs for awhile.

Richie blinked and looked at the doctor. He started to laugh. He laughed loudly, his body shook, causing his legs some pain, but he couldnt stop.

The doctor and Richies mother exchanged confused glances as Richie continued to laugh.

Finally, Richies laughs died down enough to spit out intelligible words. Oh dont worry doc, theres no fear of tight clothing around my legs!