“I don’t want to go!” Patty yelled from the backseat of the van he was riding in. “I’m telling you Tim, I’ve got this under control. Really.”
Tim Duncan looked in the rear view mirror to see his teammate struggling against his straitjacket. Patty’s eye’s were wild with a mix of fear and insanity. “You think after what you just did, that you get to walk away a free man? You hurt a lot of people back there, Patty.”
Patty had been at a promotional event, a charity swim meet for developmentally disabled children. Everything had been going smoothly, everybody was having a good time, until the towels had come out to dry off the competitors.
Using his superior quickness, Patty had stolen the towels out of the hands out of the children, leaving them confused and tearful. Then, right there in front of everybody, he had lowered his pants in preparation for a self-pleasuring session using those very same towels. Only Tim’s quick thinking had prevented the bizarre exhibition from reaching its inevitable climax.
Back in the present, Patty raved and ranted. “This is illegal! You’re holding me against my will! I demand to be let go!” he shouted. “I swear, man, I don’t have a problem. I don’t even like towels!”
“Patty, you’re going to rehab whether you like it or not,” explained Tim in his soft, comforting voice. “This can’t keep happening.”
They pulled up to a plain-looking building. The sign in front read “San Antonio Paraphilia Rehabilitation.” Parking near the door, Tim prepared to move the patient.
“No! No! NOOOO!” Patty squealed, kicking his legs to fend off Tim’s approaching grasp. “I’m fine! Really!”
Ignoring the sharp kicks to his forearms, Tim grabbed his teammate under the armpits and dragged him, still kicking and now wailing nonsense, to the entrance. A few nurses, seeing the commotion, immediately hustled out of the back to place additional restraints on the demented Australian.
As Patty was strapped to a gurney and wheeled away, he accepted his fate and stared at Tim with silent, pleading eyes.
Tim could barely manage to hold his gaze. “I’m sorry, Patty,” he whispered. “But it has to be this way.”