"Me me me me! I'm the little mutt!" Doleman said in utter resignation.
Cleveland was very satisfied with Doleman's answer.
Doleman continued, "Pillar Bro, from now on you're my blood brother, about the bet..."
"Here's the deal. Considering our years of brotherhood, forget eating shit—it's off the table. But you have to wash my dirty socks, and not just today, you'll take over washing my dirty socks for the entire year. How does that sound?"
"An entire year?!" Doleman leapt up from the chair, "That's outright bullying!"
Outrageous!
Cleveland had athlete's foot, and his socks reeked worse than the stench of a latrine.
Doleman couldn't believe that he would one day find himself in a situation like this.
He hugged his pitiful self with heartbreak.
Cleveland grinned slyly, "Well, you could go live-stream eating shit. Who knows, it might even make you go viral! Kill two birds with one stone."
Doleman instantly admitted defeat, "Fine! I'll wash them!"