Underwear falls 20 stories to its death.

I hate it when my wife hangs laundry outside the window of our 21st floor apartment.  One has to always worry about wind blowing the laundry away as well as having to worry about rain.  Several times, my wife has had to go downstairs to retrieve fallen laundry.

Today, she lost my favorite pair of black underwear.  I particularly liked this pair because they fit snugly, felt comfortable and showed off my ass in its best possible light.  This valuable pair of underwear is irretrievable, or so my wife says, because no one lives near the resting spot 20 floors below.