Chinwart studied his brown, stubby toes as he attempted to avoid Mother’s gimlet eye.
“I’m waiting…”
“Well. Y’see ma’am, it were a bet.”
“A bet?”
“Yes’m. Walleye bet me I couldn’t come by a pair of Beetroot’s underdrawers.”
Mother made a choking noise. “Why didn’t you liberate them from the laundry line? It would have been safer.”
Chinwart wrinkled his grubby brow.
“But Walleye said…”
“I bet he did.” Mother sighed and sent Chinwart on his way.
She left Walleye to Beetroot.
That miscreant found himself spreadeagled on the village green. Naked. Save for a pair of pink, frilly bloomers.
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