I must be insane. That can be the only explanation for this. The only one. Really. Seriously.

Otays. Bobby is hanging out with some friends (not of the FBI persuasion) and finds himself in a bit of a jam. And....Action!

Anything will fit a Naked Man

Softly, he rolled toward the window, hoping to make his escape un-noticed. However, the creaking of the sash alerted them to his movement. Throwing caution to the wind, he stretched his long legs, using the sheer power of his quads to bust the frame out.

Shouts sounded behind him as he hit the ground running as fast as his lanky legs could go. They would be on him in minutes if he didn’t gain some serious ground. “Gotta get outta here, Bobb-o, and quick like.”

He veered left toward the overgrown hedges, using the piston-like muscles of his legs to propel himself forward and over the greenery. Only one obstacle lay between him and freedom: the Wall.

Motor sounds reached his ears and blue eyes cut a glance to see where his pursuers were. Still at the clubhouse, they were gathering on golf carts and preparing to corral him. Groups of four were spacing out to try and flank him before he could reach the safety of the other side of the Wall.

Massive and pristine, the grey and white marble monolith loomed in front of him, nary a hand hold in sight. As they drew closer, Bobby attempted a straight up leap, scrabbling for purchase along the top of the Wall. No such luck. It was smooth, which, in itself, was surprising. Birds usually had some say in how well things aged. Apparently, their policy was “No Birds Allowed,” either.

Sliding to the ground, Bobby grabbed a handful of turf and dirt, sprinting toward the closest pursuers. He tossed the grit into the driver’s face, causing a great amount of cursing. The golf cart careened and spun, tossing off the back two passengers while the front one managed to hang on. The Aussie reached in and hauled the sputtering driver out, tossing him on his butt.

“Hey, you can’t do that ” yelled the remaining passenger.

“Wanna bet?” came the reply, followed by a right cross to the jaw. Out went Loudmouth.

It took him precious seconds to figure out how the cart worked. Not only were cars in the US different but golf carts a whole ‘nuther species. With a lurch and a hop, he gunned the engine and proved to go a whopping fifteen miles an hour down the sidewalk path.

Behind him, three more carts formed up to follow, several of the riders shaking various clubs and yelling random insults about his mother. Bobby was tempted to stop and take them on but the information he had gathered was of greater importance. He’d get them back later.

A sudden turn on the course sent him off the sidewalk and onto the greens. Much howling came from his pursuers. He thought he heard cries of “NoooOOOOoOoO ” but he couldn’t be sure. At least, that was his story if anyone asked.

Water loomed ahead and he turned again to avoid the edge. One could never tell just where a crocodile might be lurking, but that seemed like a prime place. He breathed a sigh of relief as the wheels just cleared the border and gunned the cart once more. Aiming for the sand trap, he spun the wheel a hard right and dove off. Hot footing across the sand, he heard the men behind him. The trap was the largest on the course, its backside lined by a copse of trees. It would take them time to catch up with their quarry.

Grinning to himself, Bobby laughed as he watched them pull away. He whipped back to head for the trees and ran slam into the light pole that suddenly appeared between his eyes.

Oh, no. What has Bobby gotten himself into this time??? Poor guy. He had it made, then WHAM, the lightpole put his lights out.

oh bobby what are you doing?

cath

SOunds like paintball

sounds like fun

Ditto. Trecebo, what on earth is happening here??

What ever it is, I'm in on it!!!!

Jen

Oh, my! He certainly put up a valiant effort.

Now, I just have to wonder who/what he was running from!!

Shaking my head and grinning - only you Trece!

Well there certainly was a lot of action!!!! I'm out of breath after reading all that and for some reason my forehead hurts! a little too descriptive there, Trecebo!

kav

Okie, loved the lights out lightpole. As to the paintball, that IS a good idea. Maybe someone else could use it? Feel free! And Kav? Take to of these (see below) and call me in the morning.

***

“Ooooo, my head....” Blue eyes squinted at the harsh sunlight streaming through the lightly shaded windows. Not the regular glass and sash of before, but iron barred, fancy etched windows. “Ooooooo...”

He turned slightly, attempting to gaze out of the corner of his eye but the throbbing between his brows put a stop to that.

“You want some ice?” A well-built man stood before him, holding an ice pack wrapped in a soft hand cloth.

“Yeah. Thanks, mate.” Gingerly, Bobby applied the coolness to the knot on his forehead. “I didn’t see that pole there.”

“Most people don’t,” came the answering shrug.

“So, are you going to let me out?”

The man tilted his head, thinking about the question. “Should I? You ruined the eighth green, crashed a cart in to the biggest sand trap, and scared Melinda half to death. Should I?”

“Me...Melinda?” Sitting up slowly, one blue eye met the amused gaze of the other man.

“You Aussies avoid ponds like the plague and for good reason....”

A wry grin twisted on the tanned face. “Ah. Melindy then. Gotcha.”

In answer to the question, Bobby was beckoned to the mahogany desk. Pushed before him was a glass jar. “In here are several options. You pick one and using it, you may leave if you think you can make it all the way out.”

The Aussie looked at the man. He didn’t seem to be joking. Cobalt blue glass glowed in the sunlight as its contents whirled about. “I just pick a paper?”

Nodding, the man answered, “Yep.”

“And I can leave?” It seemed too easy.

“Using the paper you pick, you may leave.” A cryptic quip if ever he heard one.

Bobby wandered back to the window, moving the icepack to the side so he could see the grounds. He could see his best point of escape from here but tactical training forced its way in, causing him to re-think. I need to find a less obvious way out. Taking a few more minutes, he formulated a new plan, mumbling to himself as he hashed out his steps.

“Ah-hem,” coughed his captor.

“Oh, right. Pick a paper.” He slid back to the desk and reached into the bowl.

“The one you pick is the one you have to use.”

“You keep saying that.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying...”

Bobby blew out his breath and drew a slip of paper. He read it, incredulity flooding his features.

Anything will fit a naked man...

“Crikey.” He handed the paper over.

“Wow. Haven’t seen that one in while. Must’ve come in with the new batch.” The man scratched his head. “Okay then. Off with your clothes.”

“Seriously?”

“Either that or forfeit.”

Bobby began removing his shoes and socks.

“The rule for this one is you have to stay in the buff until you reach the outside. You can pick up and use anything you want as long as you can wear it on your person.”

By this time, the Aussie was almost bare. He smirked at his tormentor. “I’m not afraid of my skin, mate.”

“Did I mention the Ladies Club Auxilary meeting downstairs?”

A bit of color drained from his face, but he gamely held on.

“And that if you get caught, you have to stay buff until you reach the Wall?”

Still, he held on.

“And if you get caught twice, we throw you in Melinda’s pond?”

Briefs had barely touched the floor as the door slammed behind him.

***

Is Melinda a crocodile? And um...trece...I have this vision of Bobby streaking through the ladie's auxilary downstairs.

kav

I thought he was naked already! Hopefully you won't send him through the lady's auxiallary because it could cause a stampede and then the poor guy would never escape!

Oh Trece. I don't know what to say about this. I am laughing to hard already. What on earth are you going to do to our poor Bobby???

I was thinking the same thing,
thanks,
I really enjoyed the laugh.
Terie

Oh, my gosh, girl! You've got quite an imagination there...

Ditto. This is um...... interesting!!

Jen

i would definetly like to see this

Oh Trece! That'll teach me to be so busy. I almost missed this one!

Hilarious! You've got me laughing so hard...it's a good thing no one is home!

The sight of bare buns going over the wall..........

Bring it on!

Jill

Oh, dude!

So should I be feeling sorry for our favorite Aussie or for the women meeting downstairs? Probably Bobby.... all those women chasing him after getting a glimpse... I'll hush now

Christine

I'm thinking golf would be A LOT more exciting with Bobby streaking through the course!
I may take it up...

Em

Oh Yes! They call him "The Streak!" Bwahahaha!

***

Blood pumping, the tall Aussie looked both ways, checking the hall for anything, ANYTHING that could be used for clothing. All the windows had those vertical blinds. He inched his way toward the stairs, checking every door, knowing that they would probably be locked. Yep. Locked tight.

Hoping for a break, he finally opened a door. Yes! The bathroom. Frantically, he checked for towels, paper or cloth. Nothing. Just air dryers. In the stalls were those finagling bidets. No paper anywhere. Rounding the corner, he checked the showers. All stalls were glass. No curtains. He ran a hand through his hair. I might be in trouble.

Hot footing it out into the hall, he moved from plant to plant. What is it with Country Clubs and plants? The head of the staircase loomed, leading to the wide open foyer. Peeking over the rail, he spotted a coat rack with what appeared to be coats on it.

Just then, the front doors opened, admitting several elderly women with large garden hats and flower print dresses. One lady happened to look up, catching Bobby’s eye.

Instinctively, he waved before remembering his state of undress. The older woman blushed and winked slyly back at him, causing a shudder. Gram, mate, it’s like your gram... The woman giggled, trotting along with her friends out of sight.

Taking a breath, he spied a floor mat under a large potted fern. With a bit of struggle, he wedged it loose. One last look over the railing and he flipped the mat onto the bannister, then parked his bare butt on it, letting gravity take him for a ride. Right next to the coat rack, he landed only to find it wasn’t coats. Rather, it was trash bags.

Wasting no time, he grabbed two and headed for the back door. The help would be a little less inclined to yell, seeing as they had to put up with the clientele and all their weird habits. Thru the kitchen he ran, the chef growling in French about crazy Americans and their awful ways.

Bobby grinned as he flipped a sign, calling him a “batty kookaburra.”

The door was only feet away. From here, he could make it to the Wall and over, possibly beating whomever was on his trail. A loud crashing noise rose from behind him. The chef had bumped a waiter who had bumped a tray of glass and china. In moments, the management would descend upon the kitchen. The last thing they needed to see was a naked man.

***

some one going to take a pic for our friends in the bullpen

oh the images running through my mind

cath

oh to have this on camera would be brilliant, think of all the possibilities.
and what do you think would happen if myles ever founds out, ohhhh that's going to be great i can see it now

You ARE going to explain the cause of all this merriment eventually, right?

What an experience Bobby is having! I hope he can put those trash bags to good use and make it to the wall.

That was soooo not good for my fractured rib - but well worth the laugh. Brilliant.

I think he should have asked the old lady for her garden hat!!!

kav

Oh, Trece... You're too funny....

You know, between the two of you, there's enough entertainment here to cure even the worst blues!!!

Jill

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, eating all the gumdrops he can see, laugh kookaburra, laugh kookaburra save some gum for me. I love that song I sing it everytime we visit the Australian exhibit at the zoo! (verse two mighty, mighty king of the bush is he...)

Now about that broken glass? It is behind him right because that would severely hamper his progress.

This is such a hoot! I can't wait to see where this goes.
thanks,
Terie

but where's the fun in that, Kav?? brilliant writing, Trece!

Trece, what a wonderful way to start my Labor Day holiday!! I laughed so hard I fell off my chair!!!

Now, how in the world did Bobby get himself into this?? Bobby, I'd stay away from Melinda, if I were you!!!

Joy

My apologies for abuse of language in this section. More like mangling, actually.

***
“You reckon he’s made it out yet?”

The well-built man paused in his typing. “Do you see him?”

“No, but he’s a bit unorthodox.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Leaning back in his chair, the man laced his fingers behind his head. “Besides, he doesn’t know we aren’t following yet. He’ll make a mistake and we’ll get him. We always do.”

Scratching his head, the second man smoothed his jet brown hair. “I don’t know, Lance. He seems...pretty out there.”

“Yeah, you said that about Outback, too, Alvin. We caught him.”

“After he had wrestled the gator from the pond.”

“Your point?”

“Don’t count your chickens?” Both men started as the phone rang.

Lance answered it. “Steinberg. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Well, we didn’t do it. No. No, don’t even think of telling the General. His mother is here. Right. Okay.”

Replacing the handset in the cradle, he grinned. “Rodolfo is concerned that the chef has caused an accident due to our mischief. It seems one awful American went streaking thru the kitchen.”

***

Bobby needed a better plan. Currently, he was stashed in a very small, tightly packed broom closet. And he didn’t want to know what was poking him...anywhere. Think, Bobb-o. They’ll be coming to check soon and you don’t want to get caught. He really wanted to scratch his head but dared not move. He heard voices, muffled but close by.

***

“Ze chef, ‘e ‘ez not amused by ‘z running and crashing in ‘ez precious keetchen,” Rodolfo spoke haughtily, translating for the enraged cook.

Alvin raised his hands. “I know, I know. We’ll find him and have ‘security’ take care of it. Now, where did you see him go?”

The two Frenchmen conferred, the language rolling of their tongues like music. It was only Rodolfo’s attempt to relate it back that had both men biting their lips.

“Chef says ‘e does not kneew whare ‘z crazee Amerhican went.”

The smaller, rotund cook threw up his hands. “Puuf!”

Lance had to turn completely away, actually stepping out of the kitchen area, toward the back door. Meanwhile, Alvin thanked the two staffers and joined his slightly purple friend.

“I just...*snort*...kept seeing...*snort*....Inspector Clouseau...saying ‘ahmbarguer,” choked the well-built man.

Alvin gave him a wry grin. “At least he didn’t have to hear you mangle French.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark!” Lance leaned against the doorframe, fingers tapping lightly on his leg. “He has to get outside before he can put anything on. I figure he’ll head for the far greens. He was scoping that area before he left the room.”

“Still think you are underestimating him,” replied the other man.

“Come on. We’ll give him five minutes and rally the troops. Bobby probably thinks we are hard on his trail. He’ll make a mistake in his hurry. We’ll catch him.”

***

Brooms poking...chefs out of whack...Inspector Clouseau.... And Bobby heard it all...right???

Ok, B-man. Better hit the road. A well placed mop head could do wonders.

Jill

I can't think of anything else to say other than:

Jen

Trece, this is hilarious!! I don't think I want to know what could be poking Bobby either!!!

Yes, I think Alvin is right, Lance has definitely underestimated Bobby!!!

Joy

cath

you know i was just thinking this so reminds me of inspector clouseau, when you put it in the post, this is hilariousch, i hope bobby make it out ok, and that the team is standing on the other side of the building, can you see the looks on the faces of the girls ..... sue is going to get a heart attack, tara is going to bumble like a idiote and luce well knowing her, she is going to investigate poor bobby. hahaha and the men.... can't wait

***

Footsteps faded away. In the broom room, steel blue eyes glinted and a dimpled grin appeared. That’s it. All I have to do is step outside. Edging out of the closet, he peeked to see the kitchen relatively empty. Clutching his trash sacks close, he made a dash to the outside exit, slamming the door open.

Planting both feet on the top step, Bobby hopped back into the building. He took a deep breath and in a moment of inspiration, grabbed an apron. Voices approached and the Aussie spun, looking for possible escape routes. Deciding on a course of action, he began running for the side hallway that connected the kitchen to various dining areas.

***

“Now, Mildred, don’t go pulling our legs. Some of us can’t even stand up,” giggled a matronly lady.

Blushing a becoming pink, the woman in the purple hat gave a bemused smile. “I suppose, but he was a darling young man, even in his exposed state.”

Several of the ladies fanned themselves just thinking about it. “‘Tis a shame nothing interesting ever happens during our meetings,” sighed another.

Rose, who was in charge of the Ladies' Auxilary, frowned. “Should I take offense at that then, Aggie?”

“Oh, my no! I only meant that we never seem...to have...half...naked...men...” The lady trailed off suddenly, causing a small stir.

“Aggie?" "Are you all right?" "Aggie?" "Aggie!”

Her hand raised slowly, in the direction of the serving hallway, where stood a half-naked, dimple-clad, apron-wearing man.

***

He has dimples in those cheeks too?

OH...........I bet you meant his face.

Guess it depends on where you're sitting.



Jill

Em

i just simple can't breath

That's exactly what I was thinking, too!

Laughter is the best medicine. And this was worth a bottle of Tylenol!
thanks,
Terie

***

Bobby had heard the ladies’s voices as he advanced down the hall. With quick and efficient hands, he tied one of the trash sacks around his waist. It wasn’t quiet long enough, leaving a revealing slit along his outer thigh. He pondered using the second one but decided he needed a back up rather than a cover up. Slipping the apron strap over his head, he tied it in back and eased his way to the entrance. A slow grin crept to his mouth as he watched the older lady become rather gobsmacked by his appearance.

“Ladies,” he began in his most seductive tone. “I need your help.”

He wasn’t prepared as several of them swooned in their chairs. In a mad rush, he was lowering woman after woman to the floor, fanning them with the dropped fans.

“Crikey, Bobb-o, you done it this time,” he mumbled to himself.

A strong hand grabbed his wrist and drew him down. “This is too much fun,” came the delirious whisper.

Blue eyes bugged out. All around him, sighs were heard as the ladies helped each other to sit upright. Bobby found himself surrounded by fifteen women old enough to be his gram.

“Er, ladies?” He began to stand only to re-think and kneel so as not to provoke another episode.

Mildred laid a gentle hand on the young man’s arm. “Son, while I’m sure we appreciate the show, could you explain yourself.” Her tone required the truth.

“I’m...in...a training exercise,” was as much as he could reveal. “I need to make it beyond the Wall without being caught.”

“And you think we could help how?” Rose demanded.

He shrugged and grinned. “I figured you charming ladies, having raised sons and daughters, knew how to pull a fast one.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Aggie leaned in and patted his cheek. “Oh, yes. I’ve done a prank or two in my day.” Her green eyes glinted with mischief. “You remind me of my dear Peter.”

“Thank you, mum, I think.” His gallant nature took over and he began helping the ladies to their feet, assisting those to chairs who needed it.

Mildred took charge, an authoritative air about her that few could withstand. “Rose, you go lock the door so no one comes in. Shirley, let’s see your hat. I think it will be big enough. Dexie, you have on an over-jacket, yes? Let me have it, please. Lexa, yours as well. Anyone with spare hose in their purse?”

Several ladies searched, revealing six pair of tights in colors ranging from pastel to nude.

“Ah, good. Now, anyone with a spare hair piece? No? Oh well.” Mildred turned to Bobby. “Hun, if you will entrust yourself to us, we can get you out of here, no one the wiser.”

The Aussie looked around at the ladies, seeing smiles and an excitement much like he used to get going on assignment. “All right. I’m in your very capable hands, mi’lady.”

***

Is that literally????

Jill

two wonderful posts to catch up on

had me chuckling

cath