PROMPT: Ever since he became the towel manager of the varsity football team, Dwayne hasn’t had a moment to wash his own clothes, let along the fragrant mountain of moldering, sweaty towels currently giving him the evil eye from across the field. Unfortunately, some of his less considerate teammates have taken to randomly knocking him off his feet and laughing as he spits out a muddy mouthful of sod and grass. He takes it in stride, of course. Dwayne is also in charge of the Gatorade cooler, and his grandmother’s Miralax powder has mysteriously vanished off the kitchen counter. A coincidence, I’m sure…