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Wedgie Warlock: Chapter 4

Rattling on the fence jolts Cody awake. It’s light out and he can make out the sounds of weekend soccer practice on the oval, which mostly just comprise of lots of shouting and loud grunting. Luckily a fairly large tree shields him from public embarrassment, but not from the janitor currently staring up at him with the most confused expression on their face.

“You need help sir?” The janitor asks.

“Yep,” Cody croaks.

With the help of a stepladder, the janitor is able to hook Cody off the fence and he falls to the ground on his ass. Thankfully the numbness of his groin ensures he doesn’t take too bad a hit, and he’s able to stand up, albeit with a couple wobbles. The janitor nods and continues on their cleaning trip round the fence’s perimeter, leaving the wedgie victim standing there trying to muster any feeling he can back into his body.

For someone with a secret wedgie fetish, a forced hanging wedgie overnight definitely was almost all pain and no pleasure. It’s odd because there is a part of him that in the past had fantasised about being strung up by his undies and left to hang by the schoolyard bully all night. This deep, demonic desire within him that had craved pain and humiliation got just that, except it wasn’t enjoyable in the slightest. A few hours in, his body had become numb, not helped by the freezing cold. At one point in the middle of the night, he was pretty sure a bird came and perched on him, pecking at his right ear a little. By then though, it was hard to know what was real and what was just a manifestation of his exhausted mind.

The trip home isn’t too bad. The faint piss stains around his crotch draw a few perturbed stares on the train, but he’s too numb to notice. He goes to get his phone to call Timmy, but finding his pockets empty, remembers dropping it in the toilet the night before. Sigh. Truthfully though, he doesn’t even know what he’d tell his best friend. That he just got the worst wedgie of his life but that, in some weird twisted way, he kind of deserved it? The thing is, the more time that passed that night and the more painful the wedgie got, all he could think about was how this was exactly how Anton had felt, and how if Cody had been able to prevent it in the first place, neither of them would’ve had to endure such an agonising hanging wedgie. Anton had trusted Cody, only for him to abandon him at such a critical moment. Any pain or abandonment or humiliation he felt just made him empathise with Anton more.

Cody eventually reaches the apartment, and as he unlocks the front door and enters, a flurry of footsteps comes to greet him, followed by:

“WHEW you STINK Cody!” Timmy exclaims.

He still hugs him though, welcoming the first bit of warmth Cody’s felt in forever. After a quick shower and a fresh set of clothes, Cody walks out to the living room where Timmy awaits with two mugs of tea.

“I should’ve come looking for you,” Timmy admits, Cody’s overnight disappearance obviously weighing heavily on his mind.

“No dude it’s ok,” Cody replies.

“It’s just… actually after you left for the bathroom, Martha confronted me about her dress from formal night and she said some pretty nasty stuff. She said I’d never make it as a designer and that nobody would trust a gay Thai boy to make anything other than cheap, low quality trash. So I just left and came back home.”

“Oh Timmy,” Cody says. Coming back to their casually racist and homophobic school environment for the first time in five years can’t have been easy. “I’m really sorry.”

“I just thought that with my design degree under my belt and my first exhibition coming up, people would actually respect me,” Timmy says. “That I would finally earn their respect.”

“Timmy, you gotta know that you are an incredible designer,” Cody says, taking Timmy’s hands in his. “The best I’ve ever seen. People like Martha have had their whole lives handed to them and thanks to La Chique, they’re empowered to be the worst, ugliest versions of themselves. You don’t need to earn their respect because it isn’t theirs to give. Don’t let irrelevant people tell you your own worth, yeah?”

The two share a smile that’s quickly followed by a hug. Timmy starts theatrically dabbing his eyes with an imaginary tissue, but when Cody hands him the actual tissue box he softens, not letting humour cover up this moment of vulnerability.

“Thanks Cody,” Timmy finally says. “I mean I still don’t know what I’m gonna do for this exhibition, but I’ll figure it out.”

“You will,” Cody reassures. “You absolutely will.”

“Ok now let’s talk about why you showed up here covered in your own piss,” Timmy says, shifting his weight and now staring right at Cody.

“Oh… Are you sure you don’t wanna talk more about how Martha made you feel? Maybe come up with a revenge plan together? You love revenge plans—”

“Cody,” Timmy says sternly, “what happened? I saw you talking with Darren so I thought maybe you two finally got together and were like doing it in the parking lot, but then you weren’t answering my texts and I started to worry.”

“Firstly nothing really happened between Darren and I. Or, well…” Cody sighs. “Ok confession cam: I think he was gonna ask me out but in true me fashion, I ruined the moment.”

“That’s huge!” Timmy beams.

“Yeah but he didn’t end up doing it, and I’m not even sure if he was gonna ask me out. I tried to rectify it but I think the moment had passed and he didn’t wanna risk being vulnerable again so he just didn’t ask again.”

“Aw sorry man,” Timmy says, rubbing his back in sympathy. “Maybe you’ll have another moment together?”

“I doubt it,” he replies. “Anyway it’s fine, nothing happened, let’s just… not talk about it.” He pauses, knowing what’s about to come next but putting it off for as long as he can. “Ok so… I have to tell you a secret.”

Cody nervously exhales, turning away for a brief moment. When he looks back, his friend is patiently waiting, the most welcoming of smiles on his face. Cody takes a deep breath.

“Ever since I could remember, I’ve had an interest… or, not just an interest, a fetish… a w— a… a wedgie fetish.”

Looking down, Cody expects to hear the roar of Timmy’s usual laughter. Instead, all he hears is: “A wedgie fetish?”

“Yeah,” Cody says, now looking up to meet Timmy’s eyes, no judgement to be found in them.

“Ok,” Timmy replies after a couple seconds to think.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Cody asks.

“Actually I think it’s one of the more normal things about you.”

Cody breaks into a slight grin. “I dunno, I guess I just thought… I’ve been holding that in for the longest time, I thought people would judge me.”

“I think people will find a reason to judge either way,” Timmy says. “But I don’t think a wedgie fetish is any more judgement-worthy than any other sexual preference.”

There’s a brief silence as Cody takes in his friend’s reassurance. He actually told his secret to someone. Younger him would be so proud of this, and as if his best friend in the whole world wouldn’t be anything but supportive.

“Wait so does that mean that really big hanging wedgie Jono gave you that one time… was that on purpose?” Timmy asks.

“No that was not consensual at all and very, very painful. It’s funny you bring that up though because I have more to tell you.”

Cody had told Timmy the basics of what happened on the last day of school (and of course there was video evidence of it going around everyone’s social media) , but never divulged the details of the confrontation. In fact he’d never told him of the Gagarium underwear, him and Anton’s plans or the wedgies the two got the day before. But if secret wedgie fetish is on the table, Cody might as well reveal it all.

“I saw Jono last night.”

“He didn’t—” Timmy begins.

“No, he didn’t, actually he and his two henchmen dweebs had already kinda been taken care of hanging wedgie-wise.”

Timmy’s confused face prompts Cody to continue.

“I saw Anton and a lot of wild stuff happened last night, but essentially he’s hell-bent on getting revenge on every jock ever by telekinetically giving them all excruciating hanging wedgies with unbreakable underwear and also I have superpowers.”


“That doesn’t clear things up does it? Your face is telling me that doesn’t clear things up, oh shit oh fuck.”

Cody stands up and begins pacing, unable to vocalise the jumble of thoughts currently bouncing all around his brain. How can he possibly explain to Timmy what he’s still in the middle of processing and is not even sure he believes himself? In fact, the only thing stopping Cody from believing last night was just a bad trip and that his drink at the reunion was spiked with some shrooms or something is that his ass hurts like hell – actually no, not hell, where hell goes to die.

“I— wait, gimme a sec and I’ll show you.”

Cody bolts to his room, retrieving a regular pair of navy blue briefs from his closet. When he returns to show Timmy his powers however, he’s got his phone out and is playing a video, his face displaying true horror.

“Multiple reports have come in from all around the city of mysterious wedgie incidents, in which citizens have been suspended from lamp posts, fences, what have you – and they can’t get down,” the news report from his phone says.

Cody walks up to Timmy and rests his head on his shoulder, peering at his phone screen playing the Instagram news video.

“As you can see on the footage here,” the reporter continues, “one man in his mid-20s was seen flying up out of his apartment window by his underwear and was hung up on the top of the traffic light below his house. An investigation is underway but police have no idea who or what is causing these incidents.”

Timmy places his phone down on the table and peers up at Cody. The gears of his brain churn over and he goes to speak, yet no words come out, just a very long “erm…” as his frown slowly scales further and further down his face.

“Surely that was just an unrelated news report about some really, like really strong cyclone winds??” Timmy asks.

“That’s him!” Cody exclaims. “Anton is running around the city torturing innocent people by their very own underwear.”

“But the footage didn’t even show anyone giving the wedgies, they were just happening as if—”

“As if someone’s moving the underwear with their mind,” Cody interrupts.

Seeing the confusion still evident on his best friend’s face, he places forward his open palm with the navy blue briefs and takes a deep breath. He visualises the fabric levitating upward and instantly he feels the cool silky touch of the briefs lift up from his hand. Slowly the undies are raised higher and higher, inverting and flipping over as he hones this new muscle in his mind. He glances back down at Timmy who’s transfixed by the floating briefs. After a few seconds, he stands up and yanks them down, feeling the fabric for himself.

“It’s magic,” Timmy murmurs in amazement.

“It is in a way, I suppose. I mean, there is a scientific explanation which is that the Gagarium underwear, which was the underwear Anton and I were wearing that day, had unstable chemical properties that fused with my asshole and thus my bloodstream, giving me an enhanced telekinetic understanding of underwear fabric but uh… yeah magic.”

“So just to summarise because God do I need a summary— both you and Anton got wedgie superpowers and now Anton’s terrorising the city?” Timmy asks.

“Yes!” Cody exclaims.

“Well you’ve gotta go stop him,” Timmy says.

The excitement at his best friend comprehending the situation dissipates, leaving only the anxiety and worry that’s still left in his body.

“Um… yeah. Sure,” Cody says, sitting back down. “Are you sure you understand it all? I mean, we can just go back to you being shocked and needing several moments to take it all in.”

“You are going to stop him, right?” Timmy asks, bypassing his bait. When he doesn’t respond, he locks their hands, giving a comforting squeeze. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Cody sighs, closing his eyes. “It’s just… We both got these pretty cool powers, but I don’t want to use mine to wedgie other people. Not even Anton. I’ve seen and felt firsthand the kind of pain this power can cause and I want no part in it. But if I do nothing while countless people are tortured, what does that say about me? During our fight, Anton called me a coward for not sticking up for him and the other victims of bullying at our school. I tried, I tried really hard but I failed, and now because I failed more people are gonna face the same fate.”

Timmy bends down to give him a hug. “You are not responsible for Anton’s pain.” He strokes the back of his head and gently sits beside him. “Anton wasn’t the only one who received horrendous bullying that day, you did too! You were able to get out and save yourself, but if you’d have stayed to help him down you would’ve only got put back up on that fence.”

“But I didn’t go back for him,” Cody says, tearing up a little.

“Yeah… Yeah that’s true. But present day Cody would’ve gone back for him the second Jono and the boys had left right?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Codes, Jono is the one to blame for Anton’s pain, not you. Jono. You were dealing with your own fear that prevented you from saving Anton because in that moment you weren’t able to. We both know you would’ve saved Anton if you’d had the chance. Don’t blame yourself for not being able to stop something you yourself were threatened with, and very narrowly escaped.”

The weight that Cody had been holding onto all this time is finally able to be let go, evaporating from the deepest pits of his guilt. The most tender warmth replaces it, as if all this time he was in the way of his own radiance. He’s not to blame for Anton’s suffering, he never was. Jono and the twins inflicted that pain, and it was one that was shared. Cody couldn’t save Anton, but he saved himself.

“Thank you Timmy. You always know what to say.”

The two share one more hug, then Timmy fetches his phone to check for any news updates concerning Anton’s current whereabouts.

“You might still have that chance,” Timmy says as he sits back down. “To save the people he’s hurting, and to also save him.” Cody nods in agreement to this. “Anton’s intent on inflicting his pain on everyone else. You might just have the power to stop him, but you don’t want to wedgie other people… I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

Cody thinks back to his fight with Anton on the oval, and the faltering helplessness he felt in wanting to fight back but not wanting to participate in Anton’s twisted methods. It was like he was in a boxing match but his hands were tied behind his back and he could only use his feet. No matter what he did, Anton was always one step ahead, forcing him to always be on the defence. In fact, outside of self-defence, the only strike he successfully made was—

He jolts up, sending his chair scraping back. For a second he pauses as the idea still downloads into his brain, but then he jets to the kitchen to fetch the whiteboard off their fridge, erasing the week planner that had been drawn on and eliciting a “the week isn’t over yet!” from Timmy. He quickly catches on though, and transfers the mugs onto the kitchen counter, clearing the table for Cody as he begins doodling furiously with the purple whiteboard marker. A few seconds later, he stands back, revealing a very rough stick figure drawing of him in a hanging shoulder wedgie above the city.

“Its… you in a hanging wedgie?” Timmy says, his voice laced with hesitation.

“During my fight with Anton, there was a moment where he telekinetically pulled me forward to him and I took control of my own underwear, using it to smack him to the ground. I was able to still put up a fight but without using his own underwear against him and therefore painfully violating his genitals. What if the way I use my powers is by manipulating my own underwear? I’d be able to use it as a whip, or even a lasso maybe. I bet I could even use it to swing my way through the city, hooking each side to, like, building ledges, traffic lights, poles and stuff.”

“Whoa hang on, wouldn’t that be incredibly painful?” Timmy asks.

“That overnight hanging wedgie might not have been good for much, but I practically have balls of steel now. I can take it,” Cody replies.

“And you’d be willing to do this to yourself? Sling yourself around the city by your own underwear?”


Timmy picks up the whiteboard, analysing the picture as he chews on the lid of one of the whiteboard markers. He begins annotating it in red marker, speedily fleshing out the mechanics of Cody’s idea. He faintly chuckles as if relishing the design challenge this has now presented him with.

“Do you still have that pair of Gagarium underwear from 5 years ago?” Timmy asks.

“Sure do.”

“Then we’re gonna have to get you suited up and ready for the quickest test-run in the history of test-runs,” Timmy says.

By the time Cody’s fetched his Gagarium underwear from the back of his closet, Timmy’s already set up in his sewing room. He immediately begins work, leaving Cody to begin brainstorming more uses for his wedgie telekinesis that centre his own underwear.

“Ok so, I’ve got a few more ideas,” Cody says when checking in with Timmy an hour later. “In addition to the wedgie whip, wedgie lasso and wedgie slinging or levitation, I’ve also come up with projectile briefs that I can telekinesis from my pants pockets and onto enemies, covering their face and temporarily obscuring their vision. I’ll need to work on my aim but it should theoretically work. How’s it going in here?”

Timmy beckons for him to come take a closer look, as he ever so diligently runs fabric through his sewing machine, carefully tilting it so it stitches up perfectly.

“It’s almost done,” Timmy says through gritted teeth, his eyes not leaving the sewing machine. “Combining your Gagarium underwear with the largest pair of spandex boxerbriefs from the Target down the road wasn’t easy, but I think I’ve just managed to get the perfect balance of durability and stretchiness.”

With a final few clicks of the sewing machine, Timmy switches it off and sighs with relief. He picks up the enormous boxerbriefs and shows it off to Cody.

“Certainly the most unusual thing I’ve ever had to make, but it might just be my favourite,” Timmy beams.

Cody snags the newly reinforced underwear and heads to the bathroom to change. Timmy begins to clean up the excess of fabric in the sewing room, coming upon a few leftover scraps of Gagarium. He safely tucks them away in a spare storage box, shelving them in case of future use. Cody returns sporting his new boxerbriefs that are so large the leg holes hang down to his ankles on either side.

“Looks like half the work of having wedgie powers is tucking these in before each fight,” Cody smirks.

The two start rearranging the living area to give them room to practice Cody’s new telekinesis ideas. They push the couch and dining table back, and safely carry their TV to Timmy’s bedroom, where they also retrieve two large yoga mats to place on the living room floor.

“Ok so attack number one: the wedgie whip,” Timmy says with a notebook and pen in hand. “Focus on how far you can extend your underwear and how quickly you can engage a whipping motion.”

Cody consolidates his stance and locks his eyes onto an imaginary target in the space in front of him a few feet away. The repurposed Gagarium underwear that falls loosely around his nether regions calls to him, seducing his mind and awakening his telekinetic abilities. In one swift move, he lashes his right arm out, his underwear’s right leg hole following suit in a fast whipping motion. After basking in the success of his first self-wedgie whip for a few seconds, he recalls the underwear back into his pants.

“Nice,” Timmy says, scribbling in his notebook. “Try coming in from a few different angles so it’s not just straight-on.”

Cody does just that, applying his underwear to hit the same imaginary target but from different angles, arching in and around from the right, and then from the left several times. With each attempt, his aim gets increasingly sharper, transforming from a mere hit to a proper whip. Once this has been practiced thoroughly, Cody moves onto the next technique: the wedgie lasso.

“The lasso has all the speed and precision of the whip, but instead of hitting your target you need to encase it within the leg hole,” Timmy says as he props their coat stand right where the first imaginary target was.

Taking a deep breath, Cody flicks his wrist up, shooting the leg hole up to the ceiling. He then slams his arm down, bringing the fabric down but just missing the coat stand, causing the stretched out underwear to land right next to it. With words of encouragement from Timmy (“You can slay this, I know you can!”), he reels it back in and goes for a second shot, this time nailing it. He tightens his grasp on the coat stand and lifts it up with his telekinesis, levitating it for a brief moment before setting it back down.

“How’s it feeling so far?” Timmy asks as he puts away the coat stand.

“Certainly nowhere near metal sling hanging wedgie levels of pain, that’s for sure,” Cody replies.

“Well I think it’s time for your swinging from buildings idea, so I’ll check back in with you on that.”

The two take the elevator to the roof of their apartment building. Thankfully they’re the only ones up there, prompting Timmy to begin the set-up as Cody finds the best spot to practice his hanging wedgie levitation idea. He settles on a built-in ladder that connects this part of the roof to an elevated area with solar panels.

“I’m thinking the safety rails on each side of this ladder will be good to hook the leg holes onto,” Cody calls out to Timmy, who in turn gives him a thumbs-up.

Cody never thought he’d be giving himself a hanging wedgie, not after having two separate incidents both involving painful and humiliating hanging wedgies. But being able to fly through the city using his underwear would provide him with access to all kinds of new moves, and would help him move around much faster.

From the bottom of the ladder, Cody slowly pulls up on both leg hole sides with his mind. The familiar feeling that isn’t completely unwelcome deepens as the underwear dives up his crack, feeling simultaneously like someone’s just shoved a chilli up his ass and someone’s giving him the best anus massage of his life. His feet leave the ground and both leg holes hook onto safety rail rungs about halfway up the ladder. And so he dangles.

After a few seconds to re-centre his mind on the task, Cody isolates the right leg hole and carefully unhooks it, raising it a couple rungs and then hooking it down. Despite the higher ground his right leg hole has, his body remains straight like a yo-yo intent on stabilising itself. He then does the same with the left leg hole, hoisting his left side up so that now his left side is higher than the right. He continues this pattern, tightening his pace with each movement as he slowly but surely begins to haul himself up the ladder using his telekinetic abilities. Once he reaches the top of the ladder, he pulls himself out of the wedgie and up onto the elevated roof, lying down as he catches his breath.

“That was very impressive,” Timmy says, walking over. “Looks like your theory is correct.”

“On the small scale, yes,” Cody says through pants. “I have no idea if I’ll actually be able to swing my way around the city though, and it’s not really like I can just test-run that so much as just do it.”

“At least the Gagarium properties I extracted and fused with the spandex are working, and they can hold your weight. Was there any pain?”

“A little, but it’s bearable,” Cody says closing his eyes, letting the late afternoon sun bask over him. “I can feel it happening, and when it goes in real deep there’s a small burning sensation, but as we both know I don’t exactly mind that. There’s no tremendous pain though, at least not any more.”

By now Timmy’s made his way up the ladder and lies down beside Cody. The two stare up at the setting sun with the weight of what’s to come pressing on both their minds.

“I think it’s really brave what you’re doing,” Timmy says gently. “Conquering your fears and your trauma and using it to help people… not everyone can have courage like that, with or without powers.”

“Thanks,” Cody smiles weakly. “I guess it just feels like the natural thing to do, y’know. It’s the right thing to do. It’s a shame we still don’t even know where Anton’ll show up next.”

“He’s already targeted jocks and frat boys from all the university campuses in the city, who knows where he’s gonna go next.”

“At our encounter yesterday, he made it seem like he was gonna do something big. Show the world his power sorta thing. All this – wedgie-ing individual jocks, that just feels trivial.”

The two lie there for a bit, the bustle of the surrounding city filling in the silence that has fallen between them. This time yesterday, they were getting ready for the high school reunion, laughing their asses off in the Uber over. The past 24 hours have transported them into almost a completely different world, one where superpowers exist and more importantly, super villains bent on inflicting global pain have to be stopped. Yet sitting here next to his best friend, Cody’s reminded of just how little has changed. Timmy still has his back no matter what and he’s still the same compassionate, courageous Cody.

“I think I’ll just wait for the next news report to come in and try to intercept him there,” Cody sighs. “Anyway, is Jeremy still coming over tonight?”

“Yeah but I can cancel if you need any help.”

“Nah I’ve got it covered. It’s your cousin’s birthday and he’s been looking forward to watching the game with you.”

“Alright, but here,” Timmy says, handing him a small flip phone. “You take the spare phone and if anything happens you call, yeah? I’ll have my phone next to me the whole time.”

“Thanks, but don’t forget to have fun,” Cody says.

“Yeah and you don’t forget to focus on Anton and not the throbbing wedgies you’ll be giving yourself,” Timmy teases.

“Oh my god,” Cody laughs.

“Melbourne better watch out for Super Wedgie Boy!”

Cody playfully gives him a little shove and the two chuckle. Timmy checks his phone again but there hasn’t been an update on Anton for over an hour now.

“It’s gonna be a great match actually,” Timmy says.

“Oh yeah?”

“I do really wish we hadn’t missed out on getting tickets though. You know I’m not really one for footie but Jeremy says apparently there’s nothing better than seeing all those footy players run on the field in-person. I mean I’m not gonna say no to 3 hours of hot sweaty jocks running around. It’s also the most anticipated match of the season supposedly, so the excitement will just be through the roof and—”

Cody bolts up, mouth agape. “The football match tonight! Anton’s going to be at the stadium!”


“Anton wants revenge on all jock types, and he wants an audience to witness his reclaiming of power. What better place to do so than the most highly-anticipated televised football match of the year! It’s time.”

“Just wait one second,” Timmy says, scaling down the ladder and retrieving two new 3-packs of white briefs. “Three are medium, and the other three are XXXL. These should work perfectly for your projectile briefs.”

Cody grins, placing them in his pockets. “Thank you.”

“Go get him, Codes.”

Without a second thought, Cody sends out his right leg hole and secures it on a pole on the next building’s roof, jumping off the side of their apartment building and swinging down below. Timmy waits anxiously for his best friend to swing back up.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Not yet.

And he does, soaring through the air and flinging his left leg hole onto the edge of another building. Cody looks back, the image of Timmy pumping his fist in elation getting smaller and smaller as he makes his way toward the stadium.

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