Standin' there, laughin' like she is havin' the time of her luscious life, is the Queen of Burly-que, Helen LaTour herself, in, what I mean, the flesh.
She is holdin' some white sort of a robe or somethin' over her head, and aside from that, she ain't got a stitch on that knockout of a body of hers.
Luigi gets his wind back, and starts gettin' tough again. "So you been two-timin' me fer this old goat here, huh?"
"I assure you, this is as much of a shock to me—"
But the LaTour ain't payin' them no attention. She pulls the robe half over her, and gives with that tinklin' laugh again.
"I didn't expect to come back here," she chuckles. "I made a mistake."
"Where you been?" Luigi moves towards her, like he was gonna hit her.
"Don't you take another step, you lug!"
She sure knew how to handle men. Luigi stops like he's been slugged by a Uranian, and his face gets all purple and pleading.
"Aw come on, babe, gimme a break. Ain't you been hangin' out with this little jerk long enough?"