Pants thief!

Brooke and I are walking in a field and a redneck in an old Chevy or Lincoln starts chasing us. We run into the woods to get away. Light from the headlights bounces off the trees. I don’t know if the guy gets out to follow us or not. We run into a metal shack to hide. But inside, a gang of black teenagers is about to beat one or two people. Although there are over 12 of them, I tell them to stop and talk them into handing me two or three hammers they were about to use to hit them. But then a woman in a car is at one side of the shack. Either the wall disappeared or the car is at a drive-thru type window. The woman is holding my blue sweater and asking where I got it and what it costs. She offers me seven cents for it. I sarcastically reply “why don’t you just give me a nickel for it?” The woman is the mom of one of the gang members and they are pissed that I disrespected the woman. The tension in the room flairs. I tell Brooke to run for my car while I hold them off. I reach into my pocket to hand her the car keys, but I am no longer wearing my pants. I think the woman is holding them also. I don’t know how I’m going to save Brooke. Then I remember that I have the hammers. I bang them on the wall and begin shouting. I think that if I act crazy it might scare them off. I yell, “Where are my pants!” louder and louder.