|We were immaculately attired as always.|
What Michael failed to notice while he was under Dani DLish's foxy-mama spell was the hotpants. I mean, of course he'd seen the hotpants. How could he not? But what he hadn't noticed, and what Clark and myself had noticed, was that they always wore hotpants. And Michael, naturally, was not complaining, because, well, he liked (still likes) hotpants. Who doesn't?
But this fact raised a small flicker of suspicion in Clark's mind as well as mine. What if the hotpants were just a diversion? What was that strange fabric they were made from? And of course, the more involved with her Michael became, the more we were attuned to the fact that this was unusual behavior for Michael. It was not like him - he was more of a love 'em and leave 'em wanting more kinda guy. James Bond had nothing on Michael's record. It was not unheard of for Michael to take two Unbelieva-hotties out for dinner, then to the disco, back to the hotel, drop them off at home, then meet two more for breakfast at the Huddle House and bring them back to his room at the base. So for him to stick with one gal for any length of time was in effect a sea change.
But despite our suspicions we stuck by Michael and trusted him. We knew if there was anything funny going on with the hotpants or the boots or anything at all related to those Double "D" Dames that was not kosher, it would eventually become obvious. So we carried on as normal, until the fateful day when it all went horribly wrong, and we were very nearly exposed and taken down.
I'll let Clark do the honours in unravelling this case. Till then... ciao.