Sock it to Me
English

Sock it to Me

by

fiction

"Welcome to ESPAIN. The channel where the sun never sets and we still claim it as Spanish property. I'm thrilled to be back. I can hardly speak.

Speaking of stars, we have a very special guest with us today. He's here to talk about one of the greatest enigmas of the modern age. Thank you so much for joining us."

(Applause)

"Thank you for having me. It's really my pleasure."

"Could you tell us your name?" the host asks, leaning in.

"Yes, my name is Righton."

"All right, Righton. Come closer to the microphone so our listeners can hear you. Perfect. Right there. So, Righton, could you give us a little background so the listeners know why you are here?"

"Of course," Righton begins. "Like I said, my name is Righton. I'm 63% cotton, 27% polyester, 6% nylon, and 4% spandex. I'm born in Asia but raised in the States."

The host raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "That's an interesting composition. But what exactly brings you to our show today?"

Righton leans closer to the microphone. "I'm here to talk about socks' rights. We specialize in foot comfort. You see, we work as socks."

The audience laughs, and the host leans in, curious. "Socks' rights, you say? That's fascinating. Tell us more about it."

"Sure," Righton continues. "I have a twin brother, Lefton. Hi, brother! If you're listening to the show! We make quite a pair!"

The host nods, now fully engaged. "That's quite a unique profession."

"Yeah, it sure is," Righton agrees. "But the hard truth is, we get taken advantage of."

"Oh, really? How so?" the host asks, leaning forward.

"We socks go through a lot, man. We work under pressure most of the time—we get thrown under the bed, we get hung up on a rope, and we endure long washing machine cycles. We literally put ourselves in other people's shoes all the time, and yet no one seems to appreciate our empathy."

The host smiles. "You guys have an admirable attitude. You do an amazing job!"

"Well, not always. My brother and I get in hot water from time to time," Righton says with a chuckle.

"What do you mean?" the host asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you know, sometimes we sneak into the washing machine with the white clothes."

The host mirrors Righton’s mischievous laugh. "Isn’t that reckless?"

"Not for us. Our family is really colorful, and my brother and I are bright red, as you can see."

"So what happens to the rest of the laundry?"

"Good question. It’s like everybody gets a shot of red, you know, like we were blood donors..."

(To be continued)

* Pictures by Pixabay

Headline image by sandym10 on Unsplash

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