Heather kicked the door in attempting to squash a beetle.

“That’s no beetle!” declared the owner Charlie. “That’s my wife!” Little Tammy shook her tiny fist at Heather then climbed onto Charlie’s finger.

“What’s your purpose here?” asked Charlie existentially.

“Do you have anything skimpy?” Heather replied.

His eyes lit up like a bonfire even though and bonfires precisely were despised by Heather and her whole family. She controlled herself though by not pulling, aiming, squeezing, and sweeping (PASSing) the red thing.

Charlie presented Daisy Dukes with Tweety on them, but Tweety flew away after noticing Sylvester was underwear.

Heather changed anyway.

She was a new person. Her name was now Pamela.

“Do you have anything skimpier?” asked Pamela.

“Of course!” blurted out a customer who just walked in. The customer pulled out a bra with dangling clothespins at its seams.

“Skimpier,” she said.

The men rubbed their chins and gazed blankly at the ceiling where the Terrier had been duct taped. (Oh, so that’s where the cry was coming from.)

“Bingo!” shouted Charlie, claiming two free tickets to the monster truck rally. Trucking Awesome.

Charlie presented Pamela with what appeared to be nothing.

Like a relay baton, she took this nothing from Charlie’s hands.

She returned from the changing room naked. “This is it!” she claimed.

She paid in assorted pebbles and travelled to the nudist colony. There she was rejected on the spot for not being in dress code since it was opposite day.