The California Highway Patrol was not one to shy away from charitable activity. Once again, it was time for the annual charity fundraising events. A few of their past activities included Penny Wars, Knitting, Running Marathons, Dog Shows, and even Worm Races. This particular year, Jon was voted to be the moderator of the events. He had a new idea for what the main event should be.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Jon said, as he took his position on the platform. "And Happy April Fools."
The audience smiled and clapped briefly in reply. Everyone was there. All the guys and gals from the Highway Patrol, along with members of their family.
Jon continued his speech into the microphone. "Now I have lots of surprises in store for you all. Our main event this year is something new…something we've never done before, but I think you'll all agree that it'll be loads of fun. Plus it's for a really worthwhile cause so let's be into it, people!"
"Yeah! You tell 'em, partner!" Ponch called out, feeling overly enthusiastic.
"Be quiet, Poncherello," scolded Getraer, keeping one arm around Betty's shoulder.
Ponch pouted.
Jon cleared his throat and continued to talk. "Now I'd like to introduce my lovely assistant, Miss Bonnie Clark!"
And with that, Bonnie walked out onto the stage and frowned at Jon. "That's Officer Bonnie Clark to you."
The audience laughed at this. Ponch got so hysterical, he had to grab onto Grossie to keep from falling down.
"Take it easy, Ponch. It wasn't that funny," Grossie said, trying to shake off Ponch's hands.
"Jon, this crowd seems a little in the dark. Do you think it's time we showed them what our main event actually is?" asked Bonnie. She was looking very glamorous, wearing a flaming red dress and elegant pearl jewelry.
Jon chuckled and winked at her. "Oh yes, let's show them. You may raise the curtain when ready, Bonnie."
Bonnie grinned mysteriously at the audience, as she began pulling on a cord. Soon the giant curtain was rising higher and higher off the ground, revealing three pairs of wooden stocks.
Mumbles of confusion arose from the audience, as they wondered what the stocks would be used for.
Jon smiled and looked out into the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, for this event, we are going to need three volunteers from the audience."
Immediately, everyone shut up. Nobody in the audience made a peep. None of them knew what the stocks were going to be used for, but none of them wanted to find out the hard way.
Jon waited for a few moments. "Come on now. I only need three volunteers to lock up in these stocks. Who wants to be a volunteer?"
Nobody did, apparently.
"Okay then," Jon said, slightly smirking. "I didn't think anyone would volunteer so I came prepared. Bonnie, would you bring me the helmet?"
Bonnie smiled ruefully as she picked up a Patrol Officer's helmet and handed it to Jon.
Jon clutched the helmet and looked back at the audience. "Now in this helmet are the names of every officer here today. I will select three names from the helmet. The names will be chosen completely at random and those chosen will be our victims...err, volunteers. No conditions."
"The audience looks a little nervous now, Jon," Bonnie said.
"Not as nervous as our three chosen officers are going to be," Jon chuckled.
Then Jon reached into the helmet, fished around for a bit, then pulled out a small slip of paper. Everyone held their breath as Jon unfolded the paper and held it up to read.
"Our first participant is… Sergeant Joseph Getraer."
Everyone gasped a little. Ponch smirked as he watched a nervous-looking Getraer walk up to the stage.
Once Getraer was standing by his side, Jon reached back into the helmet and fished around for the second name.
"Come on, hurry up! Tell us who your next victim is going to be, partner!" yelled Ponch.
"Be quiet, Poncherello," scolded Betty.
Jon grinned as he grabbed the second slip of paper and began to unfold it.
"Our second participant will be…Officer Arthur Grossman!"
"Oh dear," Grossie whimpered, walking slowly onto the stage. He stood beside Getraer and the two exchanged worried looks.
The audience began to giggle, getting more excited by the minute. They couldn't wait to see what fate had in store for Grossie and Getraer.
"Okay, okay," Jon said, trying to quiet down the audience. "Just hold on a minute. We still have to pick out our third and final participant."
And with that, Jon dipped his hand into the helmet and pulled out a third slip of paper. Once again, the audience held their breath as they awaited the name of the final victim…err, volunteer.
"Let's see here," said Jon, as he unfolded the slip of paper. "Our third participant is…Officer Frank Poncherello!"
"SAY WHAT?!" Ponch shouted. The audience began to cheer.
Jon chuckled at Ponch's expression. "Well what are you waiting for, partner? Come on up here! Everybody's waiting."
Ponch gulped as he walked slowly onto the stage, a hangdog look spread across his face.
"Now our three participants will remove their boots and my assistant will lock them in the stocks," Jon explained to the crowd.
Ponch, Grossie, and Getraer were very confused. But they didn't have much choice other than to play along. They removed their boots and put them aside. Then they put their wrists and ankles into the stocks, allowing Bonnie to lock them up one by one.
"I can't move!" cried Grossie, becoming frightened at the sudden immobility.
"Care to tell us what this is all about?" asked Getraer, trying to struggle.
"Isn't it obvious, Sarge?" Ponch said, with a slight smirk. "They're going to subject us to a list of ancient medieval torture methods. Some of which haven't been used in centuries. Our blood and guts will spill out all over the floor. And our poor mangled bodies will hang here for all to see. But look on the bright side…it's all for charity."
Jon glanced over at his restrained friends. "Quit teasing, Ponch."
"What are you going to do to us?" asked Grossie, meekly.
"I'm not going to do anything to you," Jon explained, then he pointed at Bonnie. "She is."
Bonnie strolled over to the stocked men and chuckled gleefully. "My my, what a lucky girl I am. Three handsome gentlemen…and they're all mine! Their cute, helpless, little tootsies are completely at my mercy!" She paced back and forth in front of their stocked feet, training her eyes on their wiggling bare toes.
Ponch's eyes widened. It suddenly dawned on him.
Getraer and Grossie both noticed Ponch's terrified expression. "What is it, Frank? asked Getraer.
"Sarge, I think…I think she's going to tickle our feet," said Ponch.
"NO!" Grossie shouted. "She can't! She wouldn't! Let us out of here!"
"Jon, this has gone far enough!" barked Getraer, who tried to stay calm but was soon struggling as hard as Grossie.
"That's right, Jon!" Ponch said, nervously. "He's our sergeant, ya know? You have to do what he says."
"Tonight is different, Ponch. It's time for the annual charity fundraising and everybody has to do their part. And your part is to sit in those stocks and laugh and laugh and laugh!"
"Yer crazy!" Ponch fumed.
"Nope, just charitable," Jon said, smiling.
Then Bonnie gazed out into the audience. "Alright everybody, is it time to make them laugh?"
The audience responded with an enthusiastic cheer.
"Okay then…which one of them should I tickle first?" she giggled.
The crowd answered the names of all three men. So it was really still up to Bonnie which one of them got it first. "Hmm, how about…our dear Sergeant Getraer?"
"Please no!" Getraer whimpered, as Bonnie took position at his helpless bare soles.
"Sorry, Sarge. But remember, it's all for a good cause. Hey, would you rather I saved you for last?"
Getraer groaned as his cheeks went red. "Look, if you're going to tickle me then just get it over with!" He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to prepare himself.
Bonnie smirked. "Whatever you say, Sarge." And with that, she began to lightly scratch the arches and balls of his feet.
Getraer squealed and exploded in a fit of laughs and giggles. "HEEHEEHEEHEHEHE NOOOO! HAHAHAHAAAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOOOP!"
"You told me to tickle you, so I'm tickling you!" Bonnie teased him, as she traced the wrinkles of his soles with her fingernails; digging deep into every little crevice. She tickled both of his feet at the same time. Her fingers scribbled and scratched mercilessly at his bare feet.
Ponch and Grossie wiggled their toes in anticipation as they nervously awaited their turns.
"I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAP! THIS IS TORTURE! HEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE NO MORE! NO MORE! AAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Getraer wailed, as tears began to form in his eyes.
"How about those toes?" asked Bonnie. "Are the little piggies ticklish too?" Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed his toes and dug her fingers into the spaces between them. Then she counted all of his toes, tickling each one as she did so.
Getraer went berserk. "NOOOOT THEEEERE! AAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEEEEEASE STOOOOOOOP! EEEEEEEHHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEEHEE!"
"Tickle tickle tickle! This little piggy went to market…"
The audience was taking great glee in Getraer's tickle torment. But after several minutes, Bonnie stopped and let him catch his breath. His face was deeply flushed and there were tears flowing down his cheeks.
"Next!" Bonnie said, walking over to Grossie.
"No, don't tickle me! Don't tickle!" Grossie pleaded, desperately trying to pull his feet from the stocks.
Bonnie ignored his pleas for mercy. She simply knelt down and began tickling his bare feet.
Grossie burst out laughing instantly. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO STOP! I'M TICKLISH! OOOOOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Bonnie scribbled her fingers on the arches, heels, and balls of his feet. She then held back his toes and tickled under them.
The audience was enjoying Grossie's torment just as much as they enjoyed Getraer's. They cheered and applauded and spurred Bonnie on.
"Coochie coochie coo!" she teased, torturing each one of his ticklish toes. Then she let her fingers scribble up and down the length of his soles, not sparing a single inch.
Ponch cringed and looked away. He shuddered, unable to watch what was soon to be his fate as well.
"BONNIE HAVE MERCY! AAAAAAAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE PLEEEEEASE! HOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! YOU'RE KILLING ME!" Grossie shrieked, tears and sweat flowing freely down his face.
"Okay, I guess you've had enough," Bonnie chuckled, standing up and straightening her dress. She then gave his big toe one last tweak, causing him to jump and giggle, before walking away and taking position at Ponch's pretty brown tootsies.
Ponch stared at her in awe. "Bonnie, how did they draft you into doing this?"
"They didn't draft me, Ponch. I offered to do this."
"You offered?!" Ponch couldn't believe his ears. How could sweet Bonnie betray her fellow officers like this?
Bonnie ran her index finger down the center of his left sole, earning a flinch and a giggle from him.
"Ticklish, Ponchyboy? Well, there's plenty more where that came from!"
"Don't you d-d-DARE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!" Ponch exploded, as Bonnie began to scribble furiously on his soles with all five fingers.
The tickling was awful and so humiliating. To have their weakness exposed to an entire audience like this made the experience ten times worse for the hapless officers.
Bonnie's playful fingers danced along his arches, before moving up to his toes and scratching the undersides of them.
"NOOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEASE STOP DOING THAT!" Ponch pleaded.
"Why?" asked Bonnie, jokingly.
"IT TICKLES MY FEET! HEEEEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEEEHEEE HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!" he howled.
"Oh, it does? That's funny, I had no idea it tickled you!" she teased.
The audience found this terribly amusing and started laughing right along with him. Ponch, Getraer, and Grossie all had a bad feeling that this whole embarrassing predicament was all just a cruel joke played on them in honor of April Fools Day.