Starr's feet were itching. Last night he fell into bed with his nasty socks practically glued to his sweaty feet. He tried taking them off, but underneath was another pair of socks. He took that pair off, and again another pair appeared underneath; just as sweaty and itchty as the last pair. Starr couldn't take it. He grabbed hold of 5 pairs at once and ripped them of his feet...underneath were yet another pair of dirty, smelly, itchy socks. Starr woke up in a cold sweat. That was some sweaty sock dream, he thought to himself as he took of the socks he'd left on before going to bed. Starr was drunk and it was getting cold for August so he just crashed with his socks on. No big deal. Starr tossed the socks over the other side of the bed.

"What time is it baby?" A strange voice asked him. Starr turned to see where the voice was coming from. "Oh shit," he thought. "I didn't; did I?"

Pinky was the kind of girl who was at the club every Friday night. posing in those tight ass spaghetti tops and wearing way too much glitter for a grown woman, but was she? For some reason even those who were not regulars at the Breakbeat Club knew to stay away. Legend had it she had crabs. Or was it the Clap? But this is not a lesson in safe sex, boys and girls. Whether or not she even had a VD, pinky was dirty, and Starr thought that he had just leapt from a bad dream to a nightmare...