Swiftly dialing Blanche’s number, she waited two short rings before hearing Blanche’s familiar, “Hello.” “Blanche,” said Edith frantically, “quickly look out your back window, and tell me if you don’t see Billy peeking into my bedroom.” After a brief moment, Blanche returned and implored Edith, “Please forgive me for asking, but could you discreetly hold his attention for just one minute? I’ll be right there and you’ll witness the severe punishment Billy is about to receive.” “All right Blanche,” Edith said nervously, “I’ll try. But please hurry, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.” As Blanche quickly grabbed the nearest tool of correction, a stiff yard stick, and silently rushed out the door, Edith slipped into a subtly revealing, sheer negligee and seated herself at the vanity. She kept an elusive eye on Billy and hoped that Blanche would quickly arrive on the scene. Making her way soundlessly toward Edith’s window and the revolting image of her nephew’s peeking shape, Blanche began to fume.
Aunt Blanche7
