"This feels like the opening to a bad porn," Jerry said glumly.

It was Halloween night – around 8 pm. Jerry and Kramer were in some trouble.

A curvy blond woman in a leopard bikini entered the room. She walked over to them and Kramer remarked, "Actually this feels like a pretty good porn…"

Two more girls came over. A lightly freckled redhead wearing a black bikini, and a tanned brunette in a green bikini.

"Hey, girls," Kramer cracked a horny little smile. "How about giving us a hand?"

"Umm, we were just leaving actually," said the blonde. They put on their jackets and quickly left the premises.

"Huh?" Kramer said in confusion, and slight disappointment.

This whole mess started when they each received a letter from an unknown being, inviting them to a party at a haunted house in the countryside. They decided to go to the party...assuming the inviter to probably be just a friend of theirs, trying to act all mysterious. The party started out weird right from the beginning. Lots of odd guests showed up, but nobody that they knew. The haunted house turned out to be nothing but an old farmhouse converted into a sort of "fun house". Only there was nothing fun about it.

Jerry and Kramer ended up locked in a dimly lit room, alone and chained to armchairs. They were completely vulnerable, their hands tied over their heads and their ankles in wooden stocks. Their shirts had been yanked off by some oddball in a gorilla suit. A lady disguised as a witch stole their shoes and socks. Their wallets also went missing. Now both men sat helpless in the gloom, clad in white tank tops and their bare feet shivering in the cold. They listened to faint festive music from behind the wall and awaited their fate.

"We're never gonna get out of this," Kramer hissed as he tried to pull free of the restraints.

"We have to get out," Jerry said. "I have a show later tonight."

Then the music faded away and an eerie silence crept over the room. A chill washed in through the cracked window, bringing with it whispers of impending doom. The figure of a tall entity appeared within the shadows. The dark figure stood motionless, the only sounds being the whistling autumn wind and Kramer's heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

"Is somebody there?" Jerry called in a calm tone.

The ominous figure remained motionless and draped in shadow, but it began to chuckle. It was a dry, harsh chuckle.

"W-w-who are you?" Kramer stammered.

The man stepped forward and the dim light shone on his face. Pale blond hair, a cruel smile, and his features all too familiar. His icy cold eyes gleamed with malice.

"Oh my God!" Jerry whimpered as his blood ran cold.

Kramer nearly wet his pants. "Ohhhhh! SHIT! Not you!"

They stared into the face of Joe Davola.

Crazy Joe Davola.

The most terrifying man in the world. Dressed completely in black and carrying a leather bag. His crooked grin never vanished from his deranged face.

Jerry and Kramer freaked out. They tried calling for help but that proved useless. They thrashed in their bonds but to no avail. This madman had them completely at his mercy, and he knew it.

"Don't hurt us," Kramer squeaked.

Joe Davola approached them, not making a single noise as he moved over the floorboards. He put the bag on the floor, then walked around in front of and behind his captives.

"What's this all about?" Jerry inquired, shaking in fear. "You invite us to a party only to have us stripped down, tied up, and put in stocks? You set a trap for us! You tricked us, you crazy lunatic!"

"Yes. I suppose I did."

"So what are you gonna do now? Kill us?"

"I plan to take my time," Joe said, taking a peek inside his bag. "I would like to spend some time with you boys. Have a few laughs."

Joe came over to stand behind Kramer, slowly running his hand down the underside of his arm. Kramer twitched when Joe got close to his exposed armpit.

"Wohohoah! Watch that!" Kramer giggled as Joe poked in his armpit with one finger.

"Are your underarms ticklish?" Joe asked.

Kramer gulped. "Uh, y-yeah…a little."

A demonic smile broke into Joe's pale face. This was exactly what he had been counting on.

"Oh no, how unfortunate...for you." And with that, Joe began wiggling his index finger in Kramer's fuzzy, sweaty armpits.

Kramer burst out giggling and squirmed around, pleading like a helpless girl. "N-no! Nohohoho! Hahahahaha! Dohohon't tihihickle mehehehehe!"

Joe started tickling both armpits at the same time, scratching all his fingers into the hairy hollows. Kramer laughed louder and started jerking from side to side. He thrashed about, trying in vain to get away. Joe continued tickling him this way for ten minutes. He enjoyed his captive's laughter and pleas. What a joy it was…what a deliciously evil delight.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOP! STOOOP! PLEEEASE!" Kramer laughed, jerking around wildly in the chair.

Joe's hands moved down to his ribs and sides, digging gently into those areas with all ten fingers.

"HEEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! YOU'RE KILLING ME!"

"That's the idea," Joe replied as he went for Kramer's belly. He scribbled his fingers all over the belly, giving it gentle squeezes and rubs.

"HEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!" Kramer squealed, his stomach muscles hardening under the ticklish torture. His thin undershirt proved little protection from the madman's dancing hands. He laughed hysterically as he twisted around, trying desperately to free himself. "OHHHH MAMA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA THAT TICKLES!"

As Jerry witnessed this, he realized with horror that Joe Davola had planned this all along! He actually intended to tickle them to death. Jerry laid his head back and tried to relax, but his heart pounded wildly in his chest. He knew Kramer's suffering would soon be his fate as well. He did pity his friend, but not enough to say anything or protest. He didn't want Crazy Joe to get started on him! At least not any sooner than necessary. So Jerry decided to remain silent.

Joe certainly didn't plan to let Kramer rest anytime soon. He took a long, purple feather from his bag. Kramer's eyes widened in terror as Joe lifted up his undershirt. Joe began spinning the feather around in Kramer's belly button.

"AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOOOOO PLEASE STOP! HEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE AHHHH! WOOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" Kramer howled as his face turned all shades of red.

Joe did stop, but only for a moment. Kramer gasped for air, struggling to catch his breath.

"You seem to be enjoying this, Mr. Kramer."

Kramer stared at the madman in shock. "Enjoying?! Are you k-kidding me? This is t-torture!"

"But it's making you laugh," Joe said.

"Of course I laugh," Kramer whined, tears flooding his brown eyes. "It tickles."

Joe grinned wickedly, showing his crooked front teeth. He dragged his hand slowly along Kramer's leg (still covered by his pants). This unwelcome caress on his leg made Kramer highly uncomfortable. Then Joe's traveling hand reached Kramer's feet, which of course were bare.

"Are your feet as ticklish as the rest of you?" Joe asked with a disturbing smile.

Jerry averted his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch this part.

The terrified Kramer begged him not to, but Joe did it anyway. His fingers scribbled all over Kramer's wide, meaty soles.

Jerry cringed when Kramer exploded in those high-pitched squeals. It sent shivers down the comedian's spine listening to someone get their feet tickled. It had been Jerry's lifelong secret that he was outrageously ticklish on the soles of his feet. His only ticklish spot, in fact. About a month ago he accidentally let this information slip out, and his three best friends exploited his weakness. Those people were his friends though! Imagine what fucking Crazy Joe Davola would do to him!

"NOOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT MY FEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!" Kramer shrieked as tears poured from his eyes. His body glistened with sweat as he thrashed and bucked in his seat.

The sour smell of fresh urine filled the air. Joe lifted his head and sniffed the air. His smile gleamed with sadistic happiness. "Damn, Mr. Kramer...you pissed in your pants! You are disgusting!" He chuckled a bit, and continued tickling Kramer's feet.

Jerry grimaced as anger seized him. He clenched his fists and mumbled under his breath, "You sick, sick bastard."

Joe grabbed some string and quickly tied back Kramer's big toes to limit movement. He then picked up the long feather and mercilessly dragged it between Kramer's toes. The feather snaked through the spaces between every toe, very slowly. Kramer screamed with hysterical laughter. He arched his back and thrashed so hard the armchair almost flew over backwards.

Jerry desperately wanted to shout 'leave him alone' but he feared that it would only anger Joe and invite that huge feather to be used on his own toes. That idea terrified him too much.

A very long hour passed before Joe finally got tired of tickling Kramer's soles and toes. He stopped tickling and gave his captive some much-needed time to catch his breath.

"Well, that sure was fun," Joe sighed happily. "Wasn't it, Mr. Kramer?"

Kramer could barely speak clearly now. He was exhausted. It took all his strength during that session to keep from passing out. He inhaled deep and fast, struggling to regain his composure.

Joe smiled and shook his head. "You are the most ticklish man I have ever met. Do you have any idea how shameful and degrading that is, Mr. Kramer? You are truly a pathetic creature."

"Don't…don't talk to me…like that," Kramer whined.

Joe rummaged in his bag for another tickle tool. When he found it, he carefully concealed the device so Kramer wouldn't see it. He came up behind Kramer, in a position to attack his underarms.

Kramer started blubbering like a baby. "No, no, no….not under the arms again. Please, no more tickling. I need a break!"

"You got a break! And it ends now!"

As Joe said this, Kramer suddenly heard a shrill buzzing behind his head. He couldn't see what Joe was about to do, but he noticed Jerry staring at it with pure horror on his face.

"What? WHAT?" Kramer shouted, tensing up and preparing for the worst. "Jerry, what's going on? What's he gonna do?"

Then Kramer felt something whirling around in the hollow of his underarm. It was a sensation like nothing he had ever endured before. Horrible, excruciating ticklishness shot through his entire body and he exploded in peels of hysterical laughter. He shook with spasms and whipped his head around as he howled.

Joe had an electric toothbrush and was tickling Kramer's armpit with it. He slowly led the whirly device in a circular motion, up and down. The spinning bristles got entangled in the dark armpit hair, but the lubricating sweat kept the brush running smoothly.

"AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEASE! I CAN'T BREEEEATHE! OOOOOOOOHH HAAAAVE MEEEERCY!"

Tears streamed down his cheeks. His chest and sides throbbed with pain from so much laughing. His wrists and ankles burned from violent yanking at the restraints. When he threw his head back, he found himself gazing through tear-filled eyes into Joe's grinning face.

Joe drove that fiendish toothbrush in Kramer's armpit for twenty minutes. He then placed the toothbrush into the other armpit, using the same torturous tactics to keep his victim in an endless Hell without a moment of relief. Thirty more minutes of underarm tickling ensued. Joe made sure he tickled those pits until the sensitive flesh turned bright red – almost as red as Kramer's face. The poor guy was almost to his breaking point.

Then Joe stopped, but not long enough for Kramer to rest. He moved over to his feet again, immediately running the toothbrush over his big, smooth soles and between all his toes.

Kramer's face turned redder than the sign at Kenny Rogers' Roasters. His whole body wracked with convulsions as sweat dripped from every pore. He threw his head back and screamed in tortured laughter.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH NOOOOOO HAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE OOOOOOOOHH GOD PLEEEEEASE! JERRY, HEEEELP MEEE!"

It was the most devastating and unbearable tickle torture Kramer had ever experienced in his life. His feet were the most ticklish spot on his body, especially his toes. This hellish tool covered every inch of his vulnerable feet, sneaking into every little crevice. Not a single tiny section was spared from the vibrating, whirling bristles of the electric toothbrush.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE! JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU CRAZY FUCKING LUNATIC!" Jerry screamed at the top of his lungs.

Kramer could only handle a few minutes of this horrific tickling method before being pushed to the absolute limit of his strength. He fainted, and his head dropped forward as his large frame fell limp in the chair.

When Jerry saw that Kramer had passed out, a wave of nausea swept over him. Now came his turn to suffer the wrath of Joe Davola.

There came a knock on the door, and a boy in a goblin costume poked his head into the room.

"What do you want?!" Joe barked at the goblin. "I am unspeakably busy!"

"I just saw two people come in, sir…and I don't think they were invited."

Joe fumed, hissing like an angry snake as he stormed out. "Party crashers…they will pay."

Jerry started to relax, but Joe was having none of it. "OH, don't think I'm forgetting about you, Seinfeld. I will be back. You WILL get yours!"

Jerry's face filled with fear again.

Joe chuckled. "It could take days or even weeks, but I will tickle you both to death. I know it's difficult to accept, but look on the bright side…you'll be laughing as you go. BHAHAHA!"