Aunt Lottie and the Panty Thief

I hadn’t heard from Aunt Lottie in quite a while, so I gave her a call.  “Aunt Lottie, where have you been?  You haven’t dropped by lately.  You must have been really busy.”

“No, child, I’m staying home protecting my underwear.”

“What do you mean, protecting your underwear?”

“Girlie, haven’t you heard about that panty thief breaking in all over town.  He goes into your house and steals your bloomers right out of your drawers.”

“Well, I did read something about it in the paper, but I think he’s mostly targeting young girls, Aunt Lottie.  Not to say that someone wouldn’t think your underwear was nice.”

“You bet you bottom dollar, gal.  I bought a couple of things from that Victoria Secrets catalog, and someone like that scumbag would just love to run his slimy ole hands all over it.  As much as I paid for that thong thing, he’ll have to carry home a load of buckshot with him if he steals it.”

“Oh, Aunt Lottie, you wouldn’t shoot somebody over a pair of panties, would you?

“You bet I would.  And I’d shoot him so that he wouldn’t be interested in anybody’s underwear after that,” she laughed.   “It may not come down to that anyway because I’ve got one of those signs in my yard that tells people my house has an alarm system.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you put in an alarm.”

“I didn’t.  I just took the sign out of Old Man Simpson’s yard and stuck it in mine.  Oh, dern, wait just a minute, I lost my bracelet.  Hold on.  Okay.  I just got one of those medical alert bracelets.”

“I didn’t know you were thinking about getting one of those.  That’s not a bad idea, Aunt Lottie.”

“Oh, it was Fred’s idea, but I don’t think it works right.”

“What do you mean?  Have you had to use it?”

“I called those people on the other end the other day and asked them how to get to this place in Covington, and they told me they couldn’t help me.”

“I think you’re getting the medical alert bracelets confused with the GPS services you get for your car.  That bracelet is only for when you need help and no one is around.”

“Well, what’s the point of that?  It ain’t like they’re here to help me anyway.  By the time they get here, I’d probably be dead anyway.”

“I don’t think they come themselves, Aunt Lottie.  I think they send some local help to your house.”

“Well, that settles it.  I’d definitely be dead.  Ooh, I got to go, Pat girl, there’s a suspicious-looking car going by the house.  That guy definitely looks like somebody who’d steal my underwear.  I better go make sure the shotgun’s loaded.  Ah, naw, that’s just Old Man Simpson.  Gotta’ go, I think he’s trying to steal his sign back.”

I just hope Old Man Simpson don’t try to mess with Aunt Lottie’s underwear.

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