Lily’s pad was hopping, so she met up with her friend who was chicken regarding finding drive to cross the road.

But, at the rendezvous point, a conveyance careered towards the duo and, then, *splash*—with skin clinged to balzarine, Ms. L and her Missy up-ended trying for drying.

Later, banteringly bitching about the frog in her throat, possibly due to almost-had-a-sink drink, Lily told pal they should mail driver a slip pink.

Well, it happened that he was both fined and fine—and kind—as he invited besties to with-sit on his daily tour by way of xebec, where, at dusk, flowery one kissed him into a prince on the ship’s deck. ; )