Mack moved on to the physical exams. “I hope you all are wearing underwear today because I’ll need you to strip down once you’re behind the screens. Got it?” “Why wait?” One of the burly, potentially farty firefighters yanked his t-shirt over his head and whirled it around with the enthusiasm, if not the skill, of an exotic dancer. Catcalls and cheers rang out. Within thirty seconds, the first dozen patients had stripped down to their unmentionables. Some smartass started blaring “Pony” by Ginuwine. It was raining articles of clothing.
