the jewel thief strikes again!

kind of a theme thursday post...

Give me that string of pearls, I want it for participating in the murder of Sir Ralph, his Ralphness, the Summer BBQ Master of Ceremonies. My demands were unheard, so I in the heat of the moment repeated them, then for full effect, dropped my pants. Puppy print boxers are a crowd pleaser, and the room roared! But, the string of pearls remained just out of reach; alas, my distraction failed. It is impossible to grab and bolt while your pants are down around ankles. A new tactic was in order, and perhaps I could do with an accomplice. Mabel was nearby, and while she normally ignored me, plainly I could see her admiring my underwear; so I shuffled over to her corner. Did you hear me, Mabel? Asked I, surreptitiously. She answered, Maybe. That is all she would ever say; may as well be called Maybe as Mabel. Mabel, I talked to her sideways, like I was speaking to the vase of potted silk flowers beside her; Mabel, if you do as I say, I will give you these puppy boxers, and I will share with you one perfect pearl from a string of pearls if my plan comes to fruition. Mabel, do you agree to my terms? She turned the other way and spoke to a portrait of George the third. Maybe. And she giggled. Ah ha! Then I disclosed to her the awesome plan and waddled back to my position. It would not do to pull up my pants and draw attention to myself. But the pearls had moved and as I scanned the room for their precise location, Mabel pulled her dress up over her head and mooed. Not now! But nobody listened to me, they all pointed and howled at Mabel, mooing; still. But at that moment I spied the prize, she was shnorking sparkling white grape juice from a plastic champagne cup and it was spraying out her nose. Perfect, I rushed over to her, intent on snatching the pearls, but I had forgotten my pants and toppled over onto her. Louise; she was the loveliest lady in the room, despite her upturned nose, and was never without pearls. Hoo, she would surely be outraged at my indiscretion! I landed on top of her, and while she objected I hastily stood and hauled her to her feet, all the while brushing her dress, as I have seen it done on the television. She was of course aghast and huffed and puffed, but hardly another person noticed, because Mabel continued mooing. Someone asked her to stop, and began to lead her away; she said Maybe, and Moo. I soon moved off, discretely, for Mabel was up to the task, and Louise finally began patting at her throat and screaming, My Pearls, My Pearls! And she fell onto her knees, pretty good trick for an old broad, and searched the floor. But by that time I was away. They had set Mabel into a chair with her dress straightened out and I went to her. I sat two chairs away and stared grimacing at the TV set. Mabel, you did wonderfully; and for your excellent work I now award you a perfect pearl, and I put one round pearl onto the end table and rolled it. And the puppy shorts? she asked. Whoa, she has spoken! Yours, I replied; but when I made to remove them, I saw they were gone already, horrors! Liar, growled Mabel, and she pointed to the center of the room, where Louise was dancing with my shorts raised over her head. Puppy Pants, Puppy Pants, she sang and twirled—she had tricked me! Hmmph, snorted Mabel, and she fetched the string of pearls from my grasp and stomped away. By Jupiter's horns, she was beautiful in her rage. Ah well, Maybe it just took a good mystery to get Mabel into form. Perhaps the next Party Night things would work out better for me, and I'd get the goods, and the girl. Now, how does one leave a room full of people unnoticed, without pants?