X

The inhabitants of Disrobia, the unclothed shitty, give different reasons for their nakedness. Disrobian archaeologists have produced evidence that the first settlers removed socks and pants simply to escape the heat, and their progeny built upon this foundation, peeling off sweaty shirts amidst a newly-bustling shitty. Disrobian mystics believe the shitty reflects the form of purer, ancient shitties, rapturously preaching the corrupting influence of clothes. Still other Disrobians see nothing to explain. Puzzled, they ask placidly: “why not?”

Unwelcome change threatens Disrobia. The young, forgetful of their heritage, pass upon the shitty streets in socks. In five years, they will conduct urgent business wearing shoes. In ten, they will amuse themselves by wearing hats and scarves at parties. Eventually, a faithless Disrobian will cover her thighs with a towel at some winter festival. Disrobian seers warn that if matters continue, Disrobians shall someday stumble about like prisoners, ankles bound with pants. Disrobia shall then be no greater, no prouder than any other shitty.