Many years ago his dad bought him a body-warmer for Christmas. Not wanting to offend his old man, he wore it throughout the festive period, meeting with regular choruses of approval from elderly relatives - "doesn't Michael look smart in his body-warmer." Trouble was that Michael might've looked 'smart', but he also looked a complete pratt.
Not only that, but experts agree that it is impossible to be sexy in a body-warmer. Naturally Michael was quietly distraught at the prospect of being neutered by such insidious means.
An otherwise desirable couple, de-sexed
by highly powerful quilted anarok-style
body-warmers.
I have it on good authority that the American military are currently experimenting with the Body-Warmer as a means to diffuse sexual tensions between the ranks. Anyway, Michael became more and more frustrated at the 'straight-jacket' he was constrained within; until one day he snapped and cut all the sleeves of off his parents' coats, and burnt them in a fire full of fierce redemptive flames.
I am glad to say that his dad was very understanding, and sat down with Michael, only punching him five times in the face. Michael, bleeding, said to his father:
"Dad I will never bare my arms in public again. Instead, I am going to design an all-in-one bodystocking and campaign against the scourge of the Body-Warmer. Now I'm leaving home to seek refuge with Abraham DeBunkem. He's just built a Shack and it's a happening place where all freakoids and outsiders are welcomed. Bye dad."
A short fight followed during which Michael was elevated into a shadow of his former self. That night he left home and was dragged into The Shack, unconscious, by Wee Davy. He lived with us for one year one month and one day, before one night moving on to new challenges. This is a story...
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