"Golly, I'm hot!"

Standing in line at the pharmacy to get some prescriptions filled.

Waiting.  Reading the signage. "Area under Surveillance."

I hear the slow stamp-and-jingle of a young lady wearing sandals coming in my direction from behind.  She sounds like a sleigh with eight reindeer or several pockets filled with money.

I turned as she rounded the corner.

Keys and bling.  A bare mid-rift.  Short-shorts.  And more-than-ample bosoms exploding forth like rolls from a package.

"Golly, I'm hot!" she exclaimed with a deep breath and exhalation.

What can you say?
"Not half as hot as my wife." I said in a bored, matter-of-fact voice.

Great, silvery peals of laughter from her.  She was busted!  She figured she could practice being a Richard-tease to some, poor, helpless old man...and she slipped on the banana peel.

"Wow!  Great answer." she said.

I mindful of the sign  "Area under Surveillance." and Casey, a young lady who graduated with Belladonna, simply nodded.

It was the only correct answer.