Have you ever noticed how TIGHT Trowa's pants are? Well I have, and it bothers me, so I came up with a reason why.... of course this requires Trowa to be a real idiot... not that it's much of a stretch.
Why Trowa's Pants Are So Tight....
By Six
One day Trowa was sitting around admiring his collection of white pants.
"I have so many white pants," he said, "I probably have more white pants than anyone else."
In order to test his theory, Trowa decided to count the pants.
"One," he said, pointing at the first pair.
"Two," he said, pointing at the second pair.
"Three," he said, pointing at the last pair (which he was wearing).
"I have three pairs of white pants. This must be some record or something! I should put them in a museum. World's biggest collection of white pants," said Trowa proudly.
Then he looked down at his collection of pants. Since he only had three pairs of pants, they had gotten quite dirty.
"Hmm..." Trowa said, "I can't put them in a museum dirty like this. What can I do?" Then he thought about it for about fifteen minutes. And he thought and he thought and he thought. Until finally....
"I'll wash them!" He exclaimed. So he dug around in some circus hay and found his clown pants. Then he changed out of his white pants and into his clown pants. Once done, he sat down and tried to think what he was doing.
Then he took a nap.
When he woke up, he wiped the drool off his face and remembered what he was going to do. "I have to wash my pants!"
So he got up and attempted to brush the hay out of his really long bangs. But it was stuck in all the super strength hair gel he used! So he just left the hay there and grabbed all three pairs of white pants.
"I gotta wash my pants. Gonna earn some money. Gotta wash my pants," Trowa chanted on the way to the washing machine. He was so concentrating on his mantra that he ran right into Catherine.
"AHHH!!! Trowa! What are you doing?" She said, staring at the specticle he made with his clown pants, three pairs of white pants flung over his arm and hay stuck in his hair.
Trowa just stared at her, dumbfounded. But fortunatly for poor Trowa (or maybe unfortunatly), he often didn't say anything, so Catherine just walked off, mumbling about quiet people.
Trowa blinked once then looked around. "Where'd Catherine go?" he asked himself. Then he continued on, still thinking about what he figured to be a large collection of white pants (after all, three was a really big number, seeing as he could only count to 7, and that was if he skipped a few numbers). He made it to the washing machine without any more interuptions and then loaded all three pairs of pants in.
But then came the hard part. The washing machine had all sorts of buttons on it. Funny little knobs and equally funny words. Words that confused Trowa, like heavy, off, and hot.
"Hmm...." thought Trowa, "That last one is a small word. It must be the right choice!"
So he set the washing machine on hot water wash and turned a few more knobs and buttons untill it turned on. Satisfied with himself, Trowa walked over to a log and sat on it, content to stare off into space for an hour. An hour passed and the washing machine turned off.
"Yay!" cheered Trowa, "My pants are done! Now I can put them in the musuem and be famous!"
He walked over to the machine and took out the pants.
"Hey, these pants are wet!" complained Trowa. He looked down at the tag on the inside of the pants. It read: DRY CLEAN ONLY.
"That's what I thought," said Trowa, "The washing machine was supposed to keep these dry! Didn't it read the tag?" This confused Trowa, who stuck his finger in his ear to help him think.
Lucky for Trowa, Catherine popped back up again and saw him standing with three pairs of wet, white pants and a finger stuck in his ear.
"Trowa, you have to dry those pants," said Catherine.
Trowa looked at her, confusion clearly written in his eyes.
"Don't worry, Mommy* will help you!" and with that, she grabbed the pants and tossed them into the dryer. Then she selected "super fast extremely hot dry" and hit start. The dryer began making clunking and bumping noises, with the occaisonal meow and clink (what was Trowa keeping in those pockets?).
Soon the pants were dry and the dryer made a really annoying BBBBZZZZZZ sound. Catherine took out the hot pants and gave them to Trowa who ran off with them, giggling like a girl. He finally sat down and then stared at the pants. Then at the clown pants he was wearing. Then back at the white pants. Then the clown pants. White pants. Clown pants.
Catherine finally showed up. "Trowa, what's going on?"
"I was gonna sell my collection of white pants to the museum! World's biggest collection of white pants!"
"Sweetie," Catherine said, "You only have three pairs of pants. And you need those pairs of pants."
Trowa continued to look from the white pants to the circus pants, white pants, circus pants, until Catherine smacked him on the back of the head.
"Trowa, wise up. You can't sell your pants to the museum. Now change back into the white ones and go back to doing what you usually do." After saying that, she walked away leaving a very sad Trowa with his pants.
Eventually he put the white pants back on, but then he noticed a problem. They were tight. REALLY tight. Obviously they had shrunk in the wash. Obvious to everyone but Trowa, that is.
"I must have grown a whole bunch today!" he exclaimed, puffing his chest (or maybe it just looked like it because the pants were so TIGHT). So Trowa continued to wear the tight pants, thinking that he had grown, and that is why his pants are so tight.
So, the moral of this story is: never trust Catherine; her eyes are weird, her hair is fluffy and her clothes are suspiciously small.
*My subs said that Catherine called herself "mommy" to Wufei and Trowa. I was frightened. She scared me. Naturally, I felt the need to share this knowledge with others. Leave me a review if you want.... or send me a detailed e-mail telling me each and everything wrong with this fic.... I could use a laugh. : )