THE KISSING BANDIT
What I found in the Washroom…
Josie "Hot Lips" Hattleby was her name. And I though I had figured why she spent most of her time in the Washroom.
At first I thought it had just been a severe case of indigestion all weekend, but it wasn't until I made a trip to the washroom that I discovered why.
My intent had been to take a nice long bath to rid myself of the mud from the puddle that I had stepped into today at Central Park, yet, that was not the case.
Hot Lips was leaned over one of the sinks, gazing into the mirror, applying yet another coat of ruby red lipstick to her full lips.
Her being shocked me, and I gasp. That caused her to turn around, and when she saw me a sly grin crossed over her lips.
"Why, hello, there," she said in a sultry voice.
"Hello, madam," I replied, taking a few steps back and into the doorway to the bunkroom.
A mock put crossed her mouth. "Why, honey, where are you going?"
"To the parlor, to finish my book," I stammered.
Her eyes locked on me as she closed the gap between us. "Why, honey," she smirked, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Why would you want to read a little old book when you could read me?"
And with that, she pressed her lips against mine in a rather smoldering kiss.
It was I that broke away, for instant recognition of her had burrowed into my head. From the newspaper clippings, she was…"You're the kissing bandit!"
Hot Lips took a step back and curtseyed. "Hot Lips Hattleby is my name and kissin's my game! I've kissed everyone from the lowliest newsie to old Pulitzer himself!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Pulitzer you say? Well, I daresay a job done quite well. They still haven't caught you since, have they?"
Hot Lips shook her head, causing her burnt red spirals to bounce. "No, not yet, not ever! Cause I'm Hot Lips Hattleby, the Kissing Bandit! They'll never catch me. Not 'till I kiss every man in New York!"
"Well, I say, now you can add me to your list. What's your tally now?"
Hot Lips brought her index finger to her chin, as in thought. "Well, I'd say a good thousand, the ones that are still alive!"
The kissing bandit laughed at her crack, yet it left me a bit apprehensive.
"Alive?" I gulped.
Hot Lips nodded. "Uh-huh. Hot Lips Hattleby with the hot lips, they say. My lips are so hot, they've been known to be too smoldering to some."
"Too smoldering?" I inquired.
She leaned in closer to me, her hot breath filling my ear. "Uh-huh. Too smoldering."
She took a step back, once again focusing her gaze into the mirror. "Of course, Spot doesn't find them that smoldering. He's had lots of girls, ya know? Now Jack…" A dreamy smile crossed her face, as she once again began to reapply her devil red lipstick. "He always found them smoldering." Her smile fell and she once again connected gazes with me. "I guess he doesn't anymore."
"Anymore?" I asked, intrigued.
"Oh, yeah," Hot Lips replied, dropping the tube of lipstick into her purse. "Before he met Sarah, he thought I was the hottest lips around. But I guess not anymore…Well, honey, I gotta go."
I caught her just as she was exiting the washroom. "Wait, how smoldering were your lips?"
A gleam caught her eye and she leaned in closer to me. Her words sent chills down my spine. "As smoldering as cyanide."
My eyes grew wide, and she chuckled at her little ruse.
I watched as Hot Lips exited the washroom and disappeared out of the bunkroom.
I thought of her words as I drew my bath.
A girl with a seemly grudge against Jack, with lips as smoldering as cyanide?
Cyanide?
Just a ruse, I chided myself as I settled into the freezing tub of water.
What I found in the Washroom…
Josie "Hot Lips" Hattleby was her name. And I though I had figured why she spent most of her time in the Washroom.
At first I thought it had just been a severe case of indigestion all weekend, but it wasn't until I made a trip to the washroom that I discovered why.
My intent had been to take a nice long bath to rid myself of the mud from the puddle that I had stepped into today at Central Park, yet, that was not the case.
Hot Lips was leaned over one of the sinks, gazing into the mirror, applying yet another coat of ruby red lipstick to her full lips.
Her being shocked me, and I gasp. That caused her to turn around, and when she saw me a sly grin crossed over her lips.
"Why, hello, there," she said in a sultry voice.
"Hello, madam," I replied, taking a few steps back and into the doorway to the bunkroom.
A mock put crossed her mouth. "Why, honey, where are you going?"
"To the parlor, to finish my book," I stammered.
Her eyes locked on me as she closed the gap between us. "Why, honey," she smirked, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Why would you want to read a little old book when you could read me?"
And with that, she pressed her lips against mine in a rather smoldering kiss.
It was I that broke away, for instant recognition of her had burrowed into my head. From the newspaper clippings, she was…"You're the kissing bandit!"
Hot Lips took a step back and curtseyed. "Hot Lips Hattleby is my name and kissin's my game! I've kissed everyone from the lowliest newsie to old Pulitzer himself!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Pulitzer you say? Well, I daresay a job done quite well. They still haven't caught you since, have they?"
Hot Lips shook her head, causing her burnt red spirals to bounce. "No, not yet, not ever! Cause I'm Hot Lips Hattleby, the Kissing Bandit! They'll never catch me. Not 'till I kiss every man in New York!"
"Well, I say, now you can add me to your list. What's your tally now?"
Hot Lips brought her index finger to her chin, as in thought. "Well, I'd say a good thousand, the ones that are still alive!"
The kissing bandit laughed at her crack, yet it left me a bit apprehensive.
"Alive?" I gulped.
Hot Lips nodded. "Uh-huh. Hot Lips Hattleby with the hot lips, they say. My lips are so hot, they've been known to be too smoldering to some."
"Too smoldering?" I inquired.
She leaned in closer to me, her hot breath filling my ear. "Uh-huh. Too smoldering."
She took a step back, once again focusing her gaze into the mirror. "Of course, Spot doesn't find them that smoldering. He's had lots of girls, ya know? Now Jack…" A dreamy smile crossed her face, as she once again began to reapply her devil red lipstick. "He always found them smoldering." Her smile fell and she once again connected gazes with me. "I guess he doesn't anymore."
"Anymore?" I asked, intrigued.
"Oh, yeah," Hot Lips replied, dropping the tube of lipstick into her purse. "Before he met Sarah, he thought I was the hottest lips around. But I guess not anymore…Well, honey, I gotta go."
I caught her just as she was exiting the washroom. "Wait, how smoldering were your lips?"
A gleam caught her eye and she leaned in closer to me. Her words sent chills down my spine. "As smoldering as cyanide."
My eyes grew wide, and she chuckled at her little ruse.
I watched as Hot Lips exited the washroom and disappeared out of the bunkroom.
I thought of her words as I drew my bath.
A girl with a seemly grudge against Jack, with lips as smoldering as cyanide?
Cyanide?
Just a ruse, I chided myself as I settled into the freezing tub of water.