Andrea's feet became a tickle factory, pumping out laughs by the minute. She pleaded, 'Anywhere but my soles!' yet the tickling did not stop, driving her to the brink of ticklish madness. By the end, she was begging for her ribs to be tickled instead, but fate had other plans.

Andrea's feet became a tickle factory, pumping out laughs by the minute. She pleaded, 'Anywhere but my soles!' yet the tickling did not stop, driving her to the brink of ticklish madness. By the end, she was begging for her ribs to be tickled instead, but fate had other plans.