(Hey! Why not make a shake out of it? It’s savory and delicious!)
“I ain’t gonna lie: that’s the best sock I’ve ever seen.” That’s what Yuri “Twist-a-Fist” Jamison said, anyhow.
“This one?” I said, holding out my right foot, Hokey Pokey-style.
“Twist-a-Fist” snorted. “Nah, that one blows.”
“This?” Holding out my left foot. “But… but they’re the same sock.” I stared down at my pink with orange-polka-dotted socks. “They are pretty great.”
“They nothing! That one rocks”–pointing at the left sock–“and that one, argh! Makes me wanna claw my eyeballs out.” Yuri scowled.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “They look the same to me.”
“Yancey,” Yuri shook his head, “you’ve got a lot to learn. A lot to learn.”
I stared at my socks.
Yuri kept shaking his head.
“Socks,” I said.
“Shiiiiiit,” Yuri said. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, man.”