"Oh come on, Rocko. Mellow out. Everyone is doing it."
"Well. . ." Rocko looked at his towel. "I guess if everyone is doing it." He dropped the fuzzy cloth and Hefer slapped him on the back, nearly knocking him on the floor. When he regained his balance they went outside, taking in the joys of this special holiday.
It was Streaking Day in O Town, an event entirely alien to the modest wallaby. He stared in wonder at Really Really Big Man's bare nipples of truth, and he gaped, shyly, a little lecherously at the beautiful sheilas.
A few yards from his house, in front of his next door neighbor's yard a large green figure blocked his view and being too slow to react her ran right into it.
"Mrs. . . Mrs. Bighead?!" Rocko's exclamation was muffled between her buttocks. He begged she not turn around, seeing her bare bottom up close was enough.
Thankfully, Mrs. Bighead pulled him from her and set him down. Rockos' eyes grew big and he backed away a step more. He felt like his personal space was invaded even if he was the accidental invader.
"Hello Rocko! How is your first Streaking Day?" Her eyes, too obviously scanned him, stopping too long on his lower regions with hungry eyes.
"Streaking Day is a very bad day."