I can't explain exactly what happened when I slipped these on. Time seemed to slow down, and the room got brighter. Suddenly I could hear my hair growing, and smell the fresh flatulence of a mayfly down the street.
I didn't even realize I'd roundhouse-kicked my wife as she snuck up behind me, it all happened so fast. Turns out she just wanted to see what I'd ordered, but sheer reflex imbued into me via this footwear took over.
As I backflipped up the stairs, she cupped the blood under her nose and ran to the sink cursing. As I made it to the top of the stairs, I removed the left Chancla and deftly yeeted it out the open window towards my neighbor's dog with the accuracy and velocity of Gambit throwing a playing card. It was a Chihuahua, which seemed somewhat ironic (or maybe coincidental), and I say was because I believe he achieved exit velocity and is currently passing the Voyager II probe on it's way to Uranus (giggity).
The chancla made a sweeping left hand turn and entered back in from the window from which it had been yeeted and landed in front of my left foot, goading me into our next adventure.
I took off the right chancla and held them both in my hands the way Bilbo stared longingly at the Ring before giving it to Frodo. I began to contemplate my next move.
"I could keep these". I thought. "I could be invincible. Nothing could stand in my way."
I sat at the edge of my bed, staring at them as their siren song called out to me in a pitch and language that only one who'd experienced the One True Chancla can hear and understand. I couldn't throw them away. What if some innocent kid came across these, or worse, a ne'er-do-well with impure intentions.
I couldn't risk it, but I also can't keep breaking my wife's nose and launching yappy dogs into the sun. First off, neighbors would start to ask questions, and two I was given a real firm talking to about violating airspace or not filing a proper flight plan for the airborne canid by the FAA, I can't remember which I wasn't really listening.
In fact, I could barely hear him on the phone as the pitch and intensity of the Chancla's call pierced the otherwise quiet house. Suddenly they began to smoke, so I grabbed them and quickly tossed them into the bathtub to cool down. I've since but them in a Faraday bag and hid them in my closet.
I'm afraid but aroused, scareoused if you will to borrow the term from our beloved Philip J. Fry. I moved all the rest of our clothes out of the closet after I caught the Chancla's dismantling and feasting upon my old Rainbow sandles. They never stood a chance. I should've known better than to keep them in the same room and that was my fault and my burden to bear.
My wife and I have since nailed the door shut and boarded up the closet. Our clothes sit in a large pile in the corner of our room and the dogs stare at the closet door and growl quietly most nights. I have to put on white noise to sleep as I swear I can hear the chanclas flopping around the closet restlessly during the night.
I've decided that's where they'll stay until I really need them. I will be like John Wick, and hope I never need to dig them up if a bad situation were to befall me.
While I still think these are wildly irresponsible to sell to the masses, I get that the economy of scale requires I not have a bespoke pair. I just warn any potential buyers of the raw unnatural power you're about to possess if you choose to slip these upon your feetses. You have been warned.
Oh, they're pretty comfortable and durable as well.