Derek was a big guy, and as such, he wore big pants. Sometimes, though, he'd get a pair of pants that wasn't cut quite right for his shape, so the waist would fit, but the rest would be a bit on the snug side. Sometimes, that had disastrous consequences.

One day, we were lounging around the living room at the previous GweepCo Central, 22 Lee Street. It was a lazy day, but for some reason Derek was wearing a pair of his jeans instead of sweatpants. Just then, someone came to the door. As John got up to answer the door, Derek also got up, I think to select a videotape for the afternoon's amusement. He leaned over to pick one up, and just at that moment, the seam in the seat of his pants decided now was a good time to give way.

And give way it did, not with a subdued tearing noise, but with an explosive pow! The fabric also split along the crease at the bottom of the seat and the top, and burst with such force that the two flaps actually sprang open like a barn door, fluttering in the breeze.

"Hooray, these pants!" cried Derek, who began backing into his bedroom. The visitor turned out to be Tricia Currier, who hadn't noticed the blowout and looked at us quizzically - me breaking on the couch, Derek backing carefully into his room - and asked Derek why he was backing away.

"It's for your own protection," said Derek. "Trust me." And into his room he went to change his pants.

Derek suffered several other Hooray, These Pants Events in his lifetime, but that was the most spectacular one.