As it turned out, the entire Teeta Von Teese Triplet conundrum, such that it was, was a bust. We didn't hear hide nor hair of them again.
No calls, no surprise visits, nothing.
Knowing the Klumpmaster Flash Twins as we do, we chalked up the phone call from them - not to mention that visit from the Teeta Von Teese Triplets, if indeed and in fact that's who they were and not some fabricated monkey business concocted by the Twins for reasons unknown - as a sad attempt on their part to make us jumpy. Which simply doesn't work. (You've read about our adventures time and again; do we seem prone to jumpiness? That's what I thought you'd say ...)
Weeks passed without a hint of contact from Greta, Gerta or "the triplets." We'd put all of them out of our minds.
Then, the other night while we were kicking it in the backyard, shooting the breeze after yet another successful day's Unbelievable-ness (where have you heard THAT before?!?), there was a knock at the door. (We "heard" it from the backyard because of our ingenious and patented infra-red, acoustic-sensitive, fail-safe Unbelievable front door monitor™.)
"Kip!" Clark yelled. "Make yourself useful for a change and get that!"
Minutes passed by while we continued our kick backery. "Whatever happened to Kip?" Jeff asked casually.
Just then, he appeared in a doorway. He stood there, looking at the three of us.
"Well? Who was at the door?" I asked.
Then? He keeled over, face first, in a spectacular face plant right onto the grass.
All three of us jumped up and ran over to him ...
... and that's when everything happened.
As we leaned over Kip trying to determine what had happened to him, I was accosted from behind. I caught a hint of perfume as what I assumed was a gunny-sack was tossed over my head. Just as quickly some type of restraint wrapped around me to prevent fighting back and my nose and mouth were smothered with something that forced me to breathe in a noxious, debilitating gas, replacing the perfumey scent I'd detected a moment before.
This very well could have been our fate that evening ...
... but we were bagged and gassed ... so we hadn't a clue at the time ...
The last I remember as I slipped into unconsciousness was muffled grunts from Jeff and Clark. I could only assume they were experiencing my same fate ...
~~~ to be continued ~~~
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