“Meet my staff,” Herman spoke up. “Staff, this is Mrs. Pupick.”
“Hot baby!” cried Cutie, “you don’t mean that you are married and that this bag of prunes is the wife?”
“Yes,” said Herman frankly. “Be kind to her, for she will be a great help to us in our work.”
Cutie’s two friends poked their fingers in Mrs. Pupick’s stomach to see if she was real.
“You vile wretch,” our warm mamma cut loose, “so this is the way you have been deceiving me! Getting me to repent and repent and all the time with a ball and chain waiting for you at home.”
Mrs. Pupick staggered to her feet and grabbed a hat pin off the dresser. Before anybody could sandbag her she had run the hat pin into Cutie’s left chest. Our heroine let out a moan and fell on the bed just as two newspaper reporters and a press photographer were ringing the door bell.
L’ENVOI
