Episode 49: Socks That Never Get Lost

The shop door swung open, and a disheveled man stumbled in, one sock missing and his shoes clearly on the wrong feet. His hair stuck up like he'd lost a fight with his pillow — and lost badly.

"Please," he gasped, "I need socks that don't disappear into the void. Every time I do laundry, I lose one. Always one. I think my washing machine's running a sock smuggling ring."

Felix tilted his head. "Sounds like a personal problem."

The man groaned. "You don't understand. I'm down to mismatched pairs and one lone sock with flamingos on it. Flamingos. I can't live like this."

Zira snickered. "Ever tried buying more socks?"

"I do! But they vanish too! I swear, socks are evolving into an escape species." He leaned forward, eyes wild. "I'm begging you. Socks that stay together. Or come home if they escape."

Felix rubbed his chin. "Alright. Socks that never get lost. One moment."

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One Argument About Sock Intelligence and a Brief Detour Into Footwear Philosophy Later…

Felix held up a pair of simple, cozy-looking socks. They were soft, striped, and radiated the faintest hum of enchantment.

"Here you go: Stay-Together Socks. They'll never separate. Ever."

The man blinked. "What if I take them off?"

"They stick together like a loyal couple on a honeymoon."

"And if one falls behind?"

Felix grinned. "It'll find its way back. Think of it as a sock homing pigeon — but less flappy."

The man grabbed the socks, tugged them on, and grinned. "They feel… warm."

Felix nodded. "That's the enchantment bonding to you. Plus, I made them extra cozy. You'll never lose them again."

Zira crossed her arms. "You didn't tell him about the side effect."

The man froze mid-happy wiggle. "Side effect??"

Felix coughed. "Well, technically… they're extremely committed to staying together. If you lose one, the other one will track it down. Through fire, flood, or embarrassing situations."

The man raised a brow. "Define 'embarrassing situations.'"

Right on cue, the remaining flamingo sock in his back pocket wiggled free, hit the ground, and bolted out the door like a tiny fabric escape artist.

The man stared in horror. "It's running. My sock is running."

Felix gestured casually. "Yeah, give it a second."

A moment later, the enchanted socks started vibrating on his feet. They tugged — hard.

The man barely had time to yelp before he was yanked forward, legs wobbling like a newborn deer as his enchanted socks dragged him after the fleeing flamingo sock.

Zira leaned on the counter. "Should we… stop him?"

Felix watched as the man disappeared into the street, shouting something about "sock loyalty" and "my knees weren't built for this."

Felix shrugged. "He wanted socks that never get lost. Technically, the socks are just helping him stay united with his old ones. It's heartwarming, really."

The door swung shut behind them. Zira smirked. "Think he'll come back?"

Felix chuckled. "Probably. If not, the socks will drag him home eventually."