A tragic run

Seeing no other option Eric breaks into a sprint across the carpark, cursing himself for parking so far from the front door.

A few people glance in his direction, clearly curious as to why he's running, and he knows they can't really see anything, but it's enough to make him more self conscious and pick up more speed.

Of course all that friction that comes from running doesn't help that hole in his trousers, and nor does the slight tugging of your powers.

You let him get half way across the carpark before unpicking the rest of the seam, letting the trousers suddenly fall to gravity's mercy. His momentum is enough to send him staggering, crashing into a random car as his trousers bunch at his ankles, ripping and tearing as he struggles back to his feet.

It's enough. As he finally gets back up he realises that his trousers are completely gone, his shirt flapping around his boxer shorts, the fabric that was once his trousers in tatters around him on the floor.