As he entered the basement, his mind shuddered at the interior. Lamar had much better things to do than an absurd request from his friends. But they 'persuaded' him to do so. The deal was that he would be able to get into their gentlemen's club.

Lamar is a handsome individual with brown hair and such clear skin. He was currently dressed in one of his best tuxedos. Wearing a white tuxedo shirt and golden cufflinks on the sleeves, he adorned his multi blue colored tuxedo jacket with black slacks and a cummerbund. On his feet, he had black socks and patent leather dress shoes that shined. And on his wrist was his expensive Patek Philippine Swiss watch. He even wore a black silk bow tie around his tuxedo shirt's collar.

Entering the basement was apparent of his initiation, but he found it utterly absurd that entering a basement would be his ticket to being able to flaunt his dapper appearance in front of others. Not that he minded, he is quite flamboyant when it comes to formal attire.

The creaky stairs didn't ease his nerves, they gave a haunting appeal to the basement. Lamar steeled his resolve, remembering what this would get him. Soon he found his objective.

It was a tacky red velvet chair. Lamar hates to admit but just to take a simple picture of himself in his best while sitting in the chair was an absurd task for him just to flaunt his outfit. But the vain male couldn't help except to seat himself comfortably in the chair.

Upon sitting down, Lamar felt the cushion somewhat press down and call him crazy, but he swore he heard a click somewhere. He ignored the thought, shifting comfortably within the velvet seat and warmed up instantly.

At first, Lamar thought this would have been a cruel prank but the chair was actually quite comfortable as he sat in it. Soon his mind began to drift off, thinking about the possibility of displaying his tuxedo for the club to see and they would bow down to him.

Lamar got so comfy, in the next five minutes he just sat there, dangling his shoe off the end of his foot. He was humming to himself as he did a little shoe play but he soon began to hear a small dripping sound in the room. Finding the noise out of place, Lamar began to look around the room in an attempt to pinpoint with the sound.

The drip soon increased into a trickle then it turned into a rushing water sound. Lamar started to slightly panic but kept it in a composed manner, despite the idea of getting his favorite tuxedo dirty. The idea alone disgusted him. The brunette could not imagine his outfit being on the receiving end of some waterfall. It is a designer blue tuxedo!

Lamar made an attempt to stand but felt an odd sloshing feeling at his shoes. He looked down and realized something.

The floor had turned to mud.

Now, Lamar was truly panicked at the fact his patent leather dress shoes were now dirty and lost their luster. The thought alone made the dapper dressed man recoil in disgust, seeing his footwear get dirty.

Lamar instinctively hopped onto the velvet chair, in an attempt to protect his attire which worked for a brief moment. Now the brunette was working on trying to find a path out of the basement. He called out to see if anyone could hear him but it seemed as if the basement's door had closed. He left out one minor detail though.

The mud was rising at an alarming rate.

It took Lamar a second too late to realize what was happening and by the time he did, the mud had reached the cushion part of the chair. The soggy and dirty terrain splashed his shoes as he tried to stand on the cushion before they were enveloped completely before working its way to the black dress socks.

Lamar felt the mud wash over his footwear, tarnishing their appearance and the disgusting feeling returned to his system. The brunette was quickly running out of ideas to save his favorite tuxedo from immediate danger. A misstep caused him to lose his balance and the bottom part of his attire was dirty. The mud soaked up his slacks after finishing his dress socks.

Lamar had a look of shock along his face when the mud soiled those parts. He had begun to breathe in shock and horror. Lamar soon noticed how he was inches away from the ceiling when the mud got to his waist before consuming the cummerbund and bottom of the blue jacket. Now with half of his body in mud that continued to rise, Lamar worked even harder to save himself and his outfit.

The brunette raised his arms up, trying to save his designer cufflinks and golden Patek Philippine Swiss watch from joining the rest of his attire. He made some movement in the mud, causing some mud to splatter against his dress shirt, bow tie, and top half of the blue jacket.

This proved to be his demise as he moved too much and fell into the mud "pool."

When he bobbed up for air, his cheeks had turned the substance's color while his hair was no longer coiffed perfectly and became uneven and outgoing with mud within the strands. Lamar soon felt cold as the dirty liquid sloshed around with him in it.

Lamar saw the ceiling closer than before just as the mud was in his ears and nearly his eyes. He was about to shut them and hold his breath for who knows how long when he felt the mud start to decrease.

Opening his eyes, he saw the mud now rush out into a nearby drainage. Lamar felt the liquid rush off his body and down to either join the drainage or fall to the floor.

By the time the mud left, Lamar was exhausted as he tried to relax and sat back into the velvet chair before feeling dirty all over his body.

He was muddy all over, the dirty liquid had caused him to become this way. No longer clean and elegant looking, the posh well dressed man became unpresentable and lost his sophistication. His white tuxedo shirt was dark brown, rich with mud stains that reached his black silk bow tie. The silver cufflinks and Patek Philippine Swiss watch were tarnished and filthy while the blue jacket had suffered a tremendous blow with mud. The jacket itself was the most muddy of all, with brown spots that dampen on the lapels, the lining smothered in the substance, and silk beyond help as mud seeped into it. His black cummerbund felt sticky as Lamar rubbed his hand on it, only to smear the mud around by accident. Down his legs, the black slacks were soiled with the over the calf black dress socks. His former shiny black patent leather dress shoes were accumulated with brown, having lost their shine and gained brown residue to share the rest of Lamar's attire.

Lamar's exhaustion shifted to fear then infuriated. He should have known something was up when he came into this basement. But his posh attitude dismissed any suspicions and he was gullible into believing that he had a chance.

The door to the basement opened wide and revealed two tuxedo wearing gentlemen who were grinning in a mad manner.

"So, how was your initiation?" One spoke with a sarcastic manner, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

Lamar didn't respond, only casting a glare at the two gentlemen.

"Oh, don't be a stick in the mud," the second one joked before 'explaining', "The basement has a tendency to flood randomly sometimes."

Lamar scoffed at this claim. It was obviously a joke to them. Those two have always been jealous of his dapper outfits and now they had gotten even with him.

"Well, don't just sit there," the first one said before offering his hand, "Need some help?"

"I don't need any help from either of you," Lamar replied with venom in his voice, making sure that they got the hint he was annoyed about their prank.

The two men shrugged and left Lamar to wallow in "his" mud puddle. The dirty man just rested his head back on the muddy chair. He held his hand to his head, muttering under his breath. This would not stand for him. He was going to have his revenge one way or another.

No one gets away with getting him and his tuxedo dirty without consequences.