Froderik and the Bingo Prize

Finding himself in the midst of a joyous embrace, Froderik felt anything but joyous. The hug in which he was gripped was the immediate consequence of Froderik’s reluctantly-granted consent to a joint evening out with his mother, who had won two tickets to the sauna during her weekly bingo night at the local town hall.

On the evening in question, Father’s parting words to his two closest family members were “Have fun with the perves.” These words were uttered almost simultaneously to the insertion into his mouth of half a can of Danish breakfast meat.

Once they had checked in at the newly reopened mixed sauna, the mother and son parted ways. The plan was to meet in a few minutes time in a sauna that would be hosting a particularly promising and fragrant ‘pine infusion’.

First, clothes would have to be shed.

Froderik was not entirely comfortable with the idea of appearing in public in a state of complete undress. Indeed, he had rarely been confronted with nudity of any kind. In the queue for the sauna, Froderik’s state of less than complete ease was not helped when he saw that he was the only person without a towel around their hips. Unease quickly turned to great embarrassment and he felt himself beginning to blush – in this case, a full-body blush. Seeing Froderik’s all-too-obvious embarrassment, his mother promptly offered her own towel for him to wear. Froderik was forced to refuse – the alternative was perhaps even more embarrassing.

This state of agitation remained even after Froderik took his place among the other guests, who were squashed sweatily together on the wooden benches, thigh by naked thigh. The air was thick with anticipation for the arrival of the Infusion Guy. Soon, the murmuring of the sauna-goers gave way to reverent silence as Dieter – who also functioned as the Towel Spinning Guy – entered the room.

Having successfully ladled out the oily water onto the glowing coals, Dieter was about to begin his towel-spinning when Froderick – whose circulation was apparently no match for the exertions of a sauna session – collapsed from his perch on the top bench. After impacting the middle level, he finally settled on the tiled floor in a crumple of naked limbs.

As he swam back into consciousness, Froderik was confronted by a hoard of naked figures peering over his face. The effect of this view was not unlike a strong dose smelling salts. Feeling only slightly dazed, he sprang to his feet and attempted a smile for the hordes that would hopefully convince them of his physically sound condition. However, this weak smile soon disappeared when he noticed that in the depths of his brief departure from the waking world, he appeared to have enjoyed something of a stimulating dream. This was strongly evidenced by the excited state of his loins. Throughout, the eyes of the concerned hordes remained determinedly fixed upon his face. Lord, how long will it take for it to…?

“I think I’d rather go home” blurted Froderik to his mother, before making a sudden dash for the changing rooms, still no towel in sight.

Spluttering and swearing, he pounded his fist on locker number 37, which was refusing to open despite the fact that it clearly carried the same number as his key. With rising horror, Froderik looked down to see that all this excitement was having a further stimulating effect on his loins. Screaming loudly, he shook at the locker with increasing desperation, causing the key to snap off. As the tears welled up, an angry voice suddenly appeared from over his shoulder: “What are you doing here? … Get out of here you swine … .HEEELP … Won’t somebody come …?”

Froderik realised that he had sprinted into the women’s changing rooms. It was an error that left him at the centre of a tornado of confusion and embarrassment.

It was late by the time Froderik finally arrived home with his mother. The visit to the police station had been mercifully brief. He had easily convinced the officers of his side of the story, but the frightened woman had refused to drop charges, meaning that a full investigation would be required to piece together a decisive picture of events.

“Well, you two appear to have had a good time,” said his father, looking nonchalantly at his wristwatch.

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