{{useitem|item=square sponge pants|text="These pants rather remind me of you," <Familiar Name> says, gesturing dismissively at your opponent. "They're a useless sponge suitably only for dipping my nether regions in!" <Its>{{typo}} is too thoroughly insulted to attack this round.|type=combat}}
{{useitem|item=square sponge pants|text="These pants rather remind me of you," <Familiar Name> says, gesturing dismissively at your opponent. "They're a useless sponge suitably only for dipping my nether regions in!" <Its>{{typo}} is too thoroughly insulted to attack this round.|type=combat}}
{{useitem|item=stainless steel slacks|text="You know, I believe if I turn at the waist and bend just so, I can focus moonlight on my posterior and reflect it in a white-hot beam!" He manages to find the right angle, and hits your opponent for 1 (+1) (+55) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.|type=combat}}
"Did I ever tell you of my travels to the distant tropic lands, searching for spices and cheap labor to make mixed drinks by my pool?" <Familiar> says. You kick back for a few minutes while he tells the story.
"These trousers may not carry the stench of the common man upon them, but they certainly do smell like something that's been sitting in a septic tank for years," <Familiar Name> says. "Do you not smell that, you blackguard?" He kicks your opponent with one fetid leg, for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+20) (+1) (+1) damage.
"I shall not be subjected to this ignominy anymore!" <Familiar Name> fumes. "Forced to wear the pants of a common garden slug!" "Oh, no," you reply, "he was the Slug Lord. Royalty." "Ah, that's better then," <Familiar Name> says, while your opponent looks on, confused.
"What are these trousers made of?" sniffs <Familiar Name>. "Paper plates," you reply. "People eat off of paper?" he cries, aghast. "Don't tell me the porcelain mines have run dry! My stock portfolio will be ruined!" Your opponent observes this exchange with a puzzled expression.
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<Familiar Name> lights a 200-meat promissory note on fire, uses that to light one leg of the pants, and uses that to burn <him> for 1 (+1) (+24) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
"What are these little metal things you've fashioned these trousers from?" asks <Familiar Name>. "You've never seen a paperclip before?" you reply. "What do you use to hold multi-page documents together?" "Servants." Your opponent appears somewhat nonplussed.
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"I say, I think I understand how these 'paper-clip' things are meant to work, now," <Familiar Name> says. Then he untwists one of the paperclips and pokes <him> with it for 35 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+11-21) (+1) damage.
"I say, I am unaccustomed to squelching my legs into a hideous writhing mass of tentacles," <Name> says, frowning haughtily. "It's really making me want to do the most frightful things to this creature you're fighting." It looks a little worried.
"If I am to wear this hideous creature as a garment," <Name> says, "I might as well make the most of it." The he leaps on it and strangles it with his suckers for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+11-21) (+1) damage.
<Familiar Name> slides over to <him> and penguin-slaps <him> for a frosty 1 (+1) (+1) (+42) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
"I feel like I'm a giant wearing a tuxedo meant for normal-sized man," <Familiar Name> says. "Speaking of which, did I tell you about my adventures in my dirigible far above the Kingdom, in the land of the giants?" You sit back and relax for the story, and feel refreshed when it's over.
<Familiar Name> dances a shivery little jig. "How on earth do those well-dressed little blighters keep warm with only this much to wear?" he complains.
<Familiar Name> dances a shivery little jig. "A tuxedo for one's nether regions is a capital idea, <Player>, but I could do with something a bit warmer, eh what?"
"For Lady Pancetta and the glory of House Bayonne, I slay thee!" <Familiar Name> shouts. "...Oh, excuse me. These greaves have rather run away with me, it seems. So to speak." Your opponent plainly has no idea how to react to this.
Monster attack power reduced by X
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"These lovely shinguards remind me of the ceremonial armor the Pork Elves wore to fancy-dress balls," <Familiar Name> says. "Allow me to demonstrate one of their courtly dances."
<Familiar Name> says, "I regret to inform you that your application to be a formidable foe has been rejected. Do try again once you're not so pathetic." <He> is too stunned by the news to attack this round.
<Familiar Name> says, "When I'm wearing these pants, I feel like I'm relaxing in a corporate jet on the way to a hostile takeover," and grins wistfully.
<Familiar Name> leaps into the air and stomps on <him> for 26 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage. "This is the most fun I've had since father filled that swimming pool with hamsters and let me dive in!" he shouts.
<Familiar Name> says, "I say, these trousers make me want to smash bricks with my head! But I daresay that would hurt quite a bit. I'll have to use someone else's head, I suppose. You there! Want to make a quick five meat?" Your opponent backs away slowly.
"You know, old bean, if you're that dead set on alliteration, you could just as easily have called them 'transparent trousers,'" Panty says, tipping you a wink and a smile.
"I say," <Familiar Name> says, "I'm somewhat unaccustomed to having such a free range of motion in my legs. Why, I'll bet I could kick that blackguard right in <his> head!" He demonstrates, doing 62 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
<Familiar Name> kicks off his shoes and starts dancing the twist. "I say, what fun! They never had 'sock hopping' back at the preparatory academy, you know."
"Everyone is always asking me if I'd like a little fire," <Familiar Name> complains, "so I've decided to turn the tables. How about a bit of flaming-hot hip-bump, you blackguard?" and he hits <him> for 1 (+1) (+41) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
"This isn't the first time I've had flaming hot pottery on my crotch," <Familiar Name> says, "not by any stretch of the imagination! Why, when I was among the crotch-pot-cooking pygmies of the Ebayan Basin, I . . ." You relax and take a little nap while he tells the story.
"Hold this knave still, <Player>," <Familiar Name> grins. "I'll put the old boot in, and give the cur a nasty dose of tetanus." Your opponent doesn't seem pleased by this idea.
"I'm practically freezing my nadgers off in these trousers!" <Familiar Name> complains. "They've got a lot of that arctic chill in them, still. Here, feel this," he says, kicking your opponents for 1 (+1) (+2) (+58) (+2) (+1) (+1) damage.
"I'm afraid, blackguards, that when you chose to attack me and my servant here, your fate was . . . sealed."
"That's a terrible pun, and I'm not your servant," you argue, while your opponents are too nonplussed to attack.
"Much like the creature on my family's coat of arms, the mighty snail, I shall slowly but surely gain victory over you, blackguard! And possibly leave a shiny trail in my wake!" <name> shouts, startling your opponent considerably.
"Tell me, have you ever seen the mating dance of the common garden snail? It's really something to observe," <name> says, and then tries to imitate it for you.
<Familiar Name> scoops a handful of snow from the pants and pelts <her> with it for 1 (+1) (+2) (+35) (+2) (+1) (+1) damage. "I suppose at this rate, I shall have my bum flapping in the breeze in a few fights, eh wot?" he says.
"Oh come now! These are hardly trousers at all," <Familiar Name> complains. "You'll have me putting my legs in a giant cheese next, I shouldn't wonder. What do you say," he asks your opponent. "Would you call this a proper set of trousers?" Your opponent isn't sure how to respond.
"Father hired a private instructor to give me snowboard lessons when I was a lad," <Familiar Name> sniffs. "I would wager a decrepit hooligan like yourself didn't have that privilege." Your opponent looks away, too ashamed to attack this round.
"Well, these trousers certainly leave little to the imagination. I do hope your imagination is insufficient to imagine that little bit that remains," <Name> says, winking and smiling.
"These trousers are so fancy they make me feel invincible!" <name> cries. "I am the matador and the bull, and the arena in which they fight! Make your move!" Your opponent shuffles nervously, not sure whether to step up or not.
"Tell me, <playername>, have you the proper ballroom dance training to dance the tango? No, I thought not. Very well, I shall demonstrate." He dances ferociously, clapping and stomping.
"I should think you're in a bit of hot water now, old boy," <Familiar Name> says, squeezing his pant leg to drench <it> with hot water for 1 (+1) (+136) (+1) (+2) (+1) (+1) damage.
"These pants rather remind me of you," <Familiar Name> says, gesturing dismissively at your opponent. "They're a useless sponge suitably only for dipping my nether regions in!" <Its>Template:Typo is too thoroughly insulted to attack this round.
"You know, I believe if I turn at the waist and bend just so, I can focus moonlight on my posterior and reflect it in a white-hot beam!" He manages to find the right angle, and hits your opponent for 1 (+1) (+55) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage.
"I can't thank you enough for wrapping my nether regions in sticky meat," Panty says, sarcastically. "You there! Blackguard! Come any closer and I'll rub my skirt on you!" Your opponent is too grossed-out to attack.
"I must admit, loathsome as this garment is, there is kind of a bad romance to it," Panty says, dancing around in a circle.
<Familiar Name> viciously bumps <him> with the studs on his boxers. "Terribly sorry, old chap, but maybe you should stay out of my way?" he says, sniffing derisively.
<Familiar Name> says, "I say, the wind through my nether regions right now is downright invigorating," and smiles widely.
"Ah yes, fencing!" <Familiar Name> says, drawing a foil from... somewhere. "En garde, ye varlet!" he shouts, and starts poking at your opponent, who backs away cautiously.
"Did I ever tell you of my years spent aboard a pirate ship? Father thought I should learn proper business ethics before I went to work for his firm, you know. I must say I learned a lot about looting booty!" <Familiar Name> looks around for hidden treasure, to illustrate his point.
"These cargo short pants remind me of the heady days when I was a member of the secret society at my preparatory school!" Boss says, then whips out a paddle and smacks them for X damage.
"I do fondly remember the hazing rituals we put the pledges through at the preparatory academy," Boss says. You relax as he regales you with stories of booze, humiliation, and buggery.
"You know, old bean, if I pull up the sides of this garment and wedge them betwixt my buttocks, I can look like I'm wearing a thong!" <Familiar Name> says. You avert your eyes, but your opponent fails to, taking 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+20) damage.
"Now this is a proper gentleman's undergarment," <Familiar Name> says, grinning. "Boxer shorts are for boxers, and I would never betray my pedigree by stooping to pugilism!"
"Trousers fashioned of compressed time? A capital idea!" <name> exclaims. "Once you've accounted for the conversion rate, they're nearly as good as a pair I once owned entirely made of money. Made going to the casino a bit of a scandal, though, eh what?" He laughs heartily and claps your opponent on the back, knocking the wind out of it.
Panty says, "I say, old chap, do you happen to have a hot water bottle about? Because I do believe I've got chills, and they're multiplyin'! And I'm losing control!" Then he grins like a madman, dances like a freak, and winks like a freak with something caught in his eye.
<Familiar Name> says, "this skirt made me so nostalgic for Crimbos past that I had the servants roast a few piping-hot chestnuts for me! Here, try one," he says, tossing a handful at your opponent for 1 (+1) (+45) (+2) (+1) (+1) (+2) damage.
<Familiar Name> does a nostalgic little dance, reminiscing about having the servants beaten for roasting the Crimbo chestnuts incorrectly. Happy childhood memories!
<Familiar Name> shouts, "you there! Fetch me a pitcher of margaritas and a pail of sunblock!" Your opponent scurries off to fetch the requested items.
"Allow me to demonstrate the massage technique I learned on my lengthy sojourn in the tropics last fall," <Familiar Name> says, before giving you an invigorating backrub.
"I daresay this uncultured blackguard has never learned proper strategy from the chess board!" <Familiar Name> says. "See how easy it is for me to stab <it> for 23 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage? It never saw <it> coming! How droll."
"That ruffian there seem blissfully unaware that they are the pawns in this conflict, first to be sacrificed!" <Familiar Name> says. <It> overhears that, and is too demoralized to attack this round.
"I don't know why you insist on sending me into battle wearing essentially undergarments!" <Familiar Name> huffs. "It seems somewhat fishy to me. Rather good one, that, eh? Fishy?" Your opponent groans and looks wounded by the pun.
Monster attack power reduced by X
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"I must say," <Familiar Name> says, "I look like a real catch in these, don't I?" and smiles widely at his pun.
"Tell me, Foggy," Panty says, "do I look, in some way, like a candle-wick to you? For I see you have clad me in wax!" He sniffs derisively, startling your opponent.
Monster attack power reduced by X
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"I am disinclined to wax rhapsodic or poetic about these leg-coverings," <Familiar Name> sniffs. "In fact, I'm inspired to do nothing but violence on account of being forced to wear them!" He kicks <it> for 29 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage
"Tell me, Foggy," Panty says, "do I look, in some way, like a candle-wick to you? For I see you have clad me in wax!" He sniffs derisively, startling your opponent.
<name> says, "I say, these pants have a most pleasant jingle to them, don't you think? It reminds me of the ancient metal discs folks used to use as currency." Your opponent looks perplexed at the notion of metal discs as money.
<name> says, "by the jingling of my pants, I feel quite inclined to dance!" and dances a little jig.
"Say, this reminds me of a rather amusing anecdote involving accidental nudity and a Crimbo pressie gone awry, back when I was a young lad at preparatory school," <name> says. You kick back and relax as he tells you the story.
"These trousers have got me in the mood to kick-kick-kick, kick some booty!" <Familiar Name> says. "I have nothing but pity for the blackguard who attempts to start a row with me!" Your opponent hangs back, unsure whether <she> should attack
"These magnificent trousers remind me of my mis-spent youth, dancing in discotheques in a dozen different countries, doing a dozen different drugs, busting a hundred different moves," <Familiar Name> says, demonstrating some of his old dance moves.
"These trousers are truly exceptional," <Familiar Name> says. "In fact, it could be said that I worship satin. Droll, eh?" Your opponent takes 11 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) damage from that terrible pun.
"Now, this is more like it," <Familiar Name> says, appreciatively. "Provided, of course, it isn't after Labór Day. Oh, my. What day is it? WHAT DAY IS IT?" Your opponent is a little too frightened to attack this round.
"Let's see if I can remember the Krakroxian battle-cry we learned for cricket matches at the preparatory academy," <Familiar Name> says, then lets loose a high-pitched screeching yodel. <He> is too freaked out to attack this round.
"Ah, the ancient and majestic Wumpus," <Familiar Name> grins, examining his loincloth. "Such a bally shame they were hunted to extinction before I could get a crack at one, eh what?"
"I say, this kilt is jolly warm," Panty says, dancing a little jig. "Wish I'd had one on our hunting club's arctic expedition -- wouldn't have had to sleep in a ruddy bear carcass."
"In all my travels, I have learned one thing that is true in any context, in any culture," <Familiar Name> says, "and that is: 'yaks smell terrible.'" he holds out his leg for your opponent to sniff, and it takes 1 (+1) (+1) (+2) (+46) (+2) (+1) damage from the smell.
"Don't talk back!" <Familiar Name> shouts, startling your opponent so much that <it> forgets to attack this round.
"In my numerous travels, I did encounter a tribe of women who wore nothing but yakskin skirts," <Familiar Name> says. "It was quite the sight, especially when they did the traditional dance of their people." He demonstrates, and your mind boggles.
"What ho!" <Familiar Name>shouts exuberantly. "Slay this vile ruffian, <Player>, and we'll display its bones on my greaves as a warning to its miserable kin!" Your opponent seems rather shocked by this.
Monster attack power reduced by X
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"I'm afraid I have a bone to pick with you, old bean," <Familiar Name> says, and kicks <him> for 1 (+1) (+1) (+1) (+1) (+100) (+1) damage.
