"Umm... I-I don't know," said Ben apprehensively.
"Give it a try," encouraged Phineas, "and let's see if it worked! I gave you a shot with the ray gun, and now it's your turn to give it a shot!"
Phineas laid back, propped up on his elbows. His feet, still in his shoes, now rested at the foot of Ben's bed. Ben was shocked, grossed out, and a little mad at Phineas for putting his dirty shoes on his bed. He wanted to object, but at the same time, he didn't want to lose his new friend.
Reluctantly, Ben sat next to Phineas's shoes at the edge of his bed. He could see little scuff marks on his sheets already. He wanted to get those shoes off his bed sooner rather than later, or else risk further soiling his sheets. With trepidation, Ben tugged on one of Phineas's blue, high-topped shoes. They wouldn't budge. Ben couldn't believe he just touched another boy's dirty shoe. Gross! Steeling himself, Ben resolved to quickly loosen the laces and just yank both shoes off. He dropped the shoes on the floor, and at least now, they weren't on his bed. For a second, Ben was slightly relieved that at least he got that over with.
It was far from over. As soon as Ben fearfully flung off Phineas's filthy shoes, his nose was assaulted with the smell of Phineas's feet. Ben's head reeled back, partly from dread, and partly from the sheer scent. He tried holding his breath discreetly, but could only last for a couple of seconds before needing to breathe again. Although Ben tried to keep his face far away from the feet, he could still smell distinctly since he was sitting right next to them. Phineas's feet had the strong, sweaty scent of boy feet. His shoes and socks had absorbed all the foot sweat that Phineas developed while building the ray gun on that hot summer day. All that sweat and heat allowed his feet to marinate like a barbecue at a backyard beach.
Although Ben had no choice but to involuntarily breathe in the scent from Phineas's feet, he still avoided looking at the feet once the shoes were off. Ben hated everything about feet; even the mere sight of them was enough to send shivers down his spine. However, Ben figured he couldn't avert his gaze the whole time Phineas was there. He had to try looking at his feet eventually, and he figured now was as good as any time. Ben recoiled at what he saw. Phineas's socks were white, but they were darkened and slightly dirty with the sweaty imprint of his soles. He could make out the outline of Phineas's toes, arch, and heel where they made their sodden impression on the bottom of Phineas's socks. Ben imagined all the bacteria that must be having a field day, and he felt sick at the thought. Ben had to look away from the feet once again, so he looked up to Phineas.
"Thanks for taking my shoes off," said Phineas with a smile and a sigh. "Now how about that foot massage?"
As if smelling and seeing those feet weren't enough! Now Ben had to touch them? Well, at least he wouldn't have to actually touch Phineas's feet. The socks would provide a barrier, albeit a thin one. Whatever relief that thought may have given to Ben proved to be short-lived. Feeling Phineas's socked feet was probably worse than touching his bare feet could ever be. His socks were soaked in sweat and radiated a humid heat that Ben could feel even without actually touching them. Phineas's feet were obviously warm, but it was Ben who had cold feet. The vile sensation of the damp sock fibers on Ben's palms and fingers, coupled with the musty odor from Phineas's feet, was absolutely repulsive to Ben. He tried massaging more lightly, then with more pressure — any variation at all that might give some relief to Ben (it was certainly relieving for Phineas and his tired feet). Ben found that changing up his foot rubbing techniques didn't help at all; every contact his hands made with the feet made him want to gag. Part of Ben wanted to just run out of his own bedroom and leave Phineas there. He was thinking about getting up to leave, but then he heard his friend speak.
"So," said Phineas optimistically, "do you think the ray gun worked?"
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