Chapter 2: Sock Puppet Saga

The day had started like any other in the world of sock puppets. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Socko was hungover.

It all began with a wild night of karaoke and whiskey-fueled puppetry. Socko had convinced his best friend, a wise-cracking ventriloquist's dummy named Steve, to join him on stage at the local comedy club.

Steve, being the voice of reason, had tried to warn Socko about the dangers of mixing liquor and puppetry, but Socko had laughed it off, saying, 'Pfft, it's just a little something to take the edge off.'

Now, as Socko nursed his pounding headache and regretful memories, he stared blankly at the wall, wondering how he'd ended up here – in this cramped, dimly lit, and slightly-used sock drawer.

A faint whispering in his ear made him jump. 'Dude, you need to get up. The world won't save itself.'

Steve, still perched on Socko's shoulder, added, 'Besides, we have a meeting with the Sock Puppet Mafia in an hour. You can't miss that.'

Socko groaned, rubbed his temples, and slowly got up. 'Fine, but can we at least get some breakfast first? I'm starving.'

Next Chapter: Sock Puppet Mafia Showdown