"In all this excitement—and with all those nudists around—I didn't notice."
"Notice what?"
"The elixir is wearing off. Now, everybody's in their underwear! Except the nudists, of course."
"Well, at least," Toffee sighed, "you can keep your eyes open now."
"I'm not so sure," Marc said. "You should see Hotstuff's underwear—begonias on a field of purple."
"No!" Toffee said delightedly. "I suppose even he has his poetic side."
The conversation stopped short as the bus leaped ahead, throwing the passengers back in their seats.
"We'll try to circle around them!" the driver called out. "Hang on!"
There was a crash as the bus lunged back into the foliage. Branches lashed frenetically at the windows and skittered back into the distance. There was a communal scream as a large oak loomed before the windshield, but the driver, pulling frantically at the wheel, managed to send the bus swerving around it. Presently, the leaping, bucking vehicle fought its way clear of the wilds and emerged onto the green expanse of the lawns.
It all happened too quickly for any of the participants to have a very clear view of exactly what happened. One thing, though, was woefully evident; the driver had gotten mixed up in his directions. As they quitted the undergrowth, they suddenly found themselves in a head-on rush toward the charging ranks of the law. All at once the landscape was fairly littered with scrambling, dissembling cops. A siren shrieked with mechanical outrage.