That pet-eating monster of a black kid had vaporized. Ran off so fast, Vicky doubted his existence. That's a valuable skill, she thought.
Vicky stood at just under five and a half feet tall. She weighed 105 pounds, and favored a mix of tailored and form-fitting clothing for everyday, erring on the flouncy side of femininity when dressing up. On the days she remembered to wear earrings, she couldn't resist putting on her Grandmother's diamond and ruby ring. Grandma had been murdered in a hospital.
"I may LOOK cute, but without my glasses, I don't SEE cute," Vicky used to say. Then she stopped saying it because it was true.
When Vicky walked back into her house and began looking for Big Tobacco, her movements began to quicken with every step as she searched each room upstairs and downstairs, underneath every piece of furniture, and under every comforter. But where could she be? No! She must have bolted out the front door? Vicky's internal organs jutted out into the biosphere, heat-seeking that expensive, bearded mutt. "Biggie T!" Vicky called.
"BIGGIE T!!!"
With that, Vicky's bladder deposited roughly a teaspoon of urine into her Olga Secret Hugs, which brought new meaning to the term "Full Briefs".