"What Had Happened Was..."

He explained, talking to his phone as it lay on his kitchen table. He had a cup of coffee and wore a thick bathrobe. A small fox and a white crow patrolled the kitchen for crumbs.

"See, I had my guerrilla team out for training. We are preparing to free the maiden with purple hair from the tower of Elevated Eglantine Geraniums, and of course, needed extensive cold water experience or we would end up on the wrong end of the swamp witches brass brassiere."

Pearl cawed several times, fluttering her wings, until he stuffed a piece of bacon into her beak to hush her. He was, after all, an anonymous guerrilla freedom fighter dedicated to the cause of pants, certainly not an actor with a lot of oddball pets, a flock of crows, and missing pants.

"Upon reaching the test site, we were dazed and dazzled by the appearance of a large metallic beast, which bellowed out not only roaring and sizzling hell, but there was a giant goose within it, and geese are, as you know, the overlords of all evil..."

The fox yapped a few times until she got her bit of bacon, then swarmed down to the floor. She pretended to be fascinated by something in the corner until Pearl flew down to steal it. Ginger promptly ran back to the mysterious Guerrilla, burrowed into the robe, and curled up, smug as smug.

"My men then spread out over the lake, but the goose had placed its forces of evil well beforehand to ambush us. Sadly, we were completely routed. However, I nobly counter-ambushed the geese of darkness, and in turn sent them screaming into the night ? a complete triumph..."

He paused to drink, and hunkered his shoulders as Pearl fluttered back to his shoulder, complaining that Ginger had stolen the best lap space. He snagged the bird and simply shoved her under his robe as well. He appeared to be having an Alien chestburster moment, only much much more cute.

"A complete triumph, except that I forgot about the Leader Goose. The wicked fiend rushed up behind me and seized my magnificent Guerrilla Warrior Pants by the seat, and, the only way I could escape was to surrender them to Evil. It was sadly necessary, for should I be captured by the forces of of Geese, I would no longer be able to rescue the innocent from captivity."

He reflected upon how sadly necessary that was for several moments before sighing even more sadly and taking another drink of his coffee.

"The pants were the most primo of Guerrilla Pants. They are dark brown, with many, many pockets for Guerrilla Stuff. Also some straps. I was forced to drop them and pull out of them to flee with my troops. Later, I saw the Leader Goose carrying them in his dastardly beak to the middle of the lake in order to try and interrogate them by putting them into freezing water..."

Indignant, he scoffed, pausing to rearrange the fox and crow under his robe.

"But my pants are brave and strong, they would have said nothing to the goose. The goose must have decided to put them on ice when they wouldn't talk. I was forced to flee, sans pantaloons, back to my secret fastness upon the shoulders of my loyal first lieutenant, who was very glad indeed that I was wearing skivvies, despite the fact that most guerrillas are in fact commando."

He paused to let all that sink in and nodded once, firmly, though it wasn't visible on an audio recording.

"Now you know my secret tale of Pants, I trust you will keep this information secret, that we may rescue the E.E.G. maiden. Her continued Purple is within your hands. Do not allow the Geese of Darkness to cloud your pants!"

?So what happened was a shit show, yup? that?s good, yeah? -Pause- No? Ehh, probably not since they were in the middle of a frozen lake? -Mumbling- damn hob probably playing one last freaking prank? bastard. -Clears throat- Uh, hmm?well, first off I guess it helps to know I?m Mach... maybe?... Probably not, right. -Cough- Anyway those pants? those might be mine.

Uhhh, lessee, description? olive cargos, you know, the outdoorsy kind but not the hipster ?wear around in the great wild suburbs sipping pumpkin shit lattes? but, like, real outdoors kind of canvas and decent stitch work meant for actual hiking and camping if that?s your thing. They?re probably slightly singed and maybe a little torn up too, er, actually so like by claws and snags not, like, trendily so.

As for how I lost them, well? hrm. That? that?s a little complicated? -Pause, ruffling of plastic wrapping, snap, crack, pop, exhale- Well? actually, not really. Kinda I guess? -Scritch of head- Hmm? well, let?s just say it?s sorta normalish to some sorta not to, er, most.

Jeez? -Sucking crackle, lazy sigh- Ok, well, I was doing a monster clean up bounty, yeah? Chump change job but still kinda dangerous if you don?t know what you?re doing? goblinoids, you know, teeth, clubs, foul temperament. So yeah, rode my bike out, found were the marauding little shits were hitting folks and staked out for them; figured I?d get the drop on the little turds and ?wham, bam, ciggy n? booze money.? Of course I didn?t know they?d befriended a frigging spriggan though and were part of a troupe with imps so? yeah.

Long story short, there was some Benny Hill-esque chasing around, a bit of fighting, some clubbing, some kicking, a lot of cursing, perhaps an explosion or two? right, right, forgot to mention the shaman? asshole? -Contemplative pause- oh, er, sorry, off topic. Anyway, I was making progress chasing down the goblins when, uh, the spriggan got at me. Tripped me up and stole one of my boots to? well, boot? with a root tangle. And of course having me on the ground the imps decided to descend aaaaaand, yeah, pantsed me. I mean, you know how those bastards can be? half malicious humor half rapey and all. So yeah? they stole my pants, I fried a few but then? spriggan. Let me tell you, there are places roots Should. Not. Be! -Puff, exhale- Fiesty little fucker too! I?m just glad there hadn?t been much snow and thaw yet or they might have been well soaked. As is, well, that?s one campfire that won?t be bothering anyone anymore -Chuckle bleeding into a sigh- But taking care of all that and being short a boot, yeah, the imps kinda absconded the hell away with my pants. Do you know how freaking cold it is riding a motorcycle in winter with no pants!?! I swear I near froze my nuts off?

-Cough, clears throat, puff- A-Anyway, I mean, I don?t actually care about the pants themselves really but there should be a wallet in them with my driver?s license which, yeah, I really care about. Those freaking DMV lines and reissue charges? and this had to happen the one day I actually decided to carry it with me! -Grumbly- Swear if I didn?t have bad luck I?d have none at all? -Cough- But yeah, was hoping for the wallet though I guess if they?re still with the pants that?d be cool too. Name will be Elitia Turner. Let me know!

O-Oh, and if the pants you found weren?t mine? well, okay, even if they are c-could you maybe not mention this to anyone? Got a reputation to uphold and all and getting pantsed by imps doesn?t exactly help in that regards. Just saying. But yeah, let me know.?

Re: What happened was...

So there we were. My fiance and I in the woods by this lake. It was that time of the month. I think it was July or maybe August because it was hot. I mean hotter than hot. Or was that my fiance? Well they're both pretty damn hot.

Anyway, we stripped down to hunt. No. I mean swim. Yeah. Skinny dipping. (It's risky with shiny piercings that fish think bring food) in the lake and the beavers stole our pants! Damn beavers! Can't trust a beaver. Never could. Nasty, smelling, ugly things!

So, my fiance only wears the most expensive suits because he's a rich fuck who doesn't think twice about getting his clothes stained or torn. He just gets new ones. So his pants really don't matter. He has three bedroom sized walk in closets full of black, blue, tan and white pants. Let's not get started on his jeans. Ripped, faded, boot cut, skinny, you name it, he has it. But if it is his pants, they'll probably be black silk with a black leather belt with a platinum buckle. Size 29 long. When I say long, I mean... well. None of your business.

If they're my pants, they'll be Levi's relaxed denim. Sky blue with a rip in the left knee where I went down on my knees and hit a rock. I didn't care though, it didn't hurt and my fiance was a very, very happy man.

So there you have it. You can return the pants to Amare Kellis. He'll know how to get them to me.

Dirk Stevens
Prisoner 2573450
Rhy'din County Lock up

What Had Happened Was...

He stared, dumbfounded. He didn't want to commit this to the public record of the interwebs, lest the tale venture into the realm of urban legend or worse - meme.

I needed to wash my pants. The kind of cold water pants washing that only the unfortunately heroic would understand...

No need to add the fact he'd needed to wash himself as well - he was sure they'd be able to tell by the snug cut of the leather.

You see sometimes when we're out there fighting the forces of good, evil, law, chaos, oblivion - whoever the bad guy du jour is - things can happen... suddenly. The kind of suddenly that soils pants. For the sake of public decency, which I'm sure in this matter I've already breached...

No need to mention those people who'd gotten the 'free show' along the treeline. Gods be good, when the weathers cold enough to freeze the water, now not much of a show, was it? #notacentaur

Let's me just say that I was in the process of washing said pair of pants, having just returned through an unfortunately miscalculated local temporal inversion to Rhydin. The place of my departure also caused me to miscalculate my place of arrival, or rather, time of arrival. I was hoping for sometime in the summer, a little moonlight, but I got... this. I figured, heck, it was better than where I came from - even if I did have to use the cold water wash. They're tight, they're black, they're not leather, synthetic or otherwise - even if they feel like it. They are expensive. They are also my only good pair of pants. Lost 'em in the drink during a flash freeze. And no I don't know how or why; blame an ice dragon or angry goddess or over enthusiastic winter events planner.

Yeah, can't tell 'em they're my only pair of pants. But what the hell can you expect, I'm living out of a tent beside a campfire half the time.

I've been doing some acting work as well, and it would really make the public appearances less awkward if I could just get them back.

Cause the cloak just ain't cutting it, see? Tall and blonde, sure, but when the wind blows I'm no Marilyn Monroe, right?

Please get back to me as soon as you can, I really need my pants back.

Who is... uh oh, the Watch. Shouldn't have tried to go the cheap route and get Wifi from the Market. Well, without pants anyway.

Got to go.

Cause you probably aren't going to deliver them to me if I'm being held in a cell - and given that I'm not wearing pants I have no desire to find out why one of the nicknames for jail is 'the pokey'. And of course there's no underwear involved - have you seen how tight those are?? I guess that's what I get for stepping out like I was dressed by a fantasy artist and modeling for a Boris Vallejo calendar. I can't even cinch those suckers, and the belt is all but useless!

Sincerely,
Brend

ps. rlly nd my pnts kthnx <3

What's that Officer? Oh... no, I uh, I was mugged by a... I think he was a human. What's that? What'd he look like? I dunno, they all look the same to me. What? No I'm not trying to be funny. You know how militant they're getting. Oh, you're a... no, no, no disrespect, I just meant...