“As soon as Becky got her hot little hands on the 20 million she headed for a huge Macy’s binge. It was holiday time, and Macy’s was decorated with Christmas trees and holiday lights. She even purchased a small dispenser of pine spray to bring home and create a holiday atmosphere around the house.
She took me shopping with her as she did the drunken sailor spending dance through every floor in the store.
Such a binge…
To top it all off we headed for the in store restaurant and had a magnificent lunch. Macy’s had no problem accommodating me. The store featured a private elaborate and exclusive dining room where the rich and famous could bring their pets.
Boy did we eat. Such rich and highly spiced delicacies. I had excellent filet mignon and other tasty meats, while Becky gorged herself on exotic and well-seasoned fare of a kind few have ever seen. So rich and spice laden, unbelievable… But, to be blunt… A gastric nightmare…
So much so that when we got on the elevator to go back down, she had an unavoidable pressure to relieve herself. Fortunately there was nobody except me on the elevator, so she let go a mighty blast. I gotta say, it made my eyes smart, but since I was only a dog, my welfare was never considered. It was baaaad, really baaaad.
However, just to be safe, in case anybody else should get on the car. We were the only ones on board. She took out her pine spray atomizer and sprayed a huge pungent cloud all about in the elevator.
Lo and behold, just after her dispensation, we stop at a lower floor, and who should appear but Skibootch. I am not kidding. It was really him.
Becky, had generously sprayed the pine aroma. Feeling fairly confident that it would cover over her rather embarrassing situation, and never one to be caught in a compromising predicament, she summoned her chutzpah. In a most coy and seductive voice she opened what she hoped would be a distracting conversation by sweetly saying:
“Hi Skibootch, there were lots of people coming and going in this car: Did you sense anything unusual?”
Skibootch in his usual buffoonish manner replied: “Yeah Becky, sure and I do. It smells like somebody pooped under the Christmas Tree.”