Postcards from Insanity
Kangaroo
Cyborg looked in the washing machine and freaked. He screamed like a girl. He shut the washing machine door and then seemed to calm down.
He opened it again and screamed.
He continued to scream and scream.
They-it was hideous- it was horrendous! The mere sight of them scalded Cyborg's eyeballs.
When he closed his eyes he was going to see them. For the rest of his miserable, long, long, terrible, aching life!
To own them must have been the eighth deadly sin.
No man, boy, or overly hormonal teenage guy should wear them.
Let alone buy them.
God forbid he bought them with his own money.
(Well, it could be immoral to spend Jump City's money on them, too.)
What kind of store would carry such a thing?
Willingly?
Cyborg refused to touch them. He would take them out with metal tongs and a gasmask.
Better yet, every Titan, from now on, should do their own laundry.
He was going to campaign to Robin.
But first, he was going to let Beastboy have it.
Oh, good Lord! Speak of the devil!
"Dude! What are you doing with my plaid-pink-and-yellow kangaroo boxers?"