SCENE 1 Operation Petticoat

Sarah Williams was fairly confident that her room mate must have some sort of secret fetish. She recalled the first day she had met the perky blonde. At the time she had seemed like a rather ridiculously happy, probably a cheer leader in high school now college student; a self proclaimed "free thinker" who, other than the occasional frat party and drunken escapade, was normal.

Sarah worried the corner of her lower lip, by sucking it between her teeth and chewing.

Normal. Now though evidence seemed to suggest other wise. It had all started out as a laundry mishap- several pairs of under wear had gone missing. At first she attributed it to lack of sleep, stress from studying for final exams; they could have easily have been misplaced. Then underwear began disappearing from her dresser. One evening they would be folded together and placed inside the drawer, the next morning several would be MIA.

A blonde, kinky room mate with an underwear fetish. She was going to have to think of a plan to evict her from their little three bedroom house. Absently she imagined her room mate busting into her bedroom in thigh high boots, a leather corset, complete with whip and hat ensemble, proclaiming, "Miz Williamz vantz to play!" Naturally her voice would be laden with a cheap German accent. She couldn't very well survive without a room mate; things were tight even with the rent split between them. Her lip hurt. Wincing she ceased her torturous efforts. Maybe she would just have to confront the girl. First she was going to have to purchase some cheap intimate replacements.

The corner drug store probably assumed the thing that Sarah was suspicious of her room mate about: this girl has an underwear issue. In the last month she had been in to purchase at least five sets of underwear. Nothing fancy- just nice, basic cotton in solid colors or stripes (whatever the clerks currently had stocked in her size). Why would her room mate be interested in such simplicity? Maybe the fetish would seem more plausible if she were the sort of girl who went to Victoria Secret and spent ten dollars on a lacy number that didn't serve much for coverage.

Billy, the regular male store clerk, eyed her awkwardly as she made her selections.

Back at the house a note was posted on the refrigerator:

"Hey Miss S- went out for the evening. Probably crashing over at Jenny's. Join us later if you want. Peace out- Brianna."

An evening alone. Perfect. She could relax after all the drama of finals, lounge around in her pajamas, and maybe watch a movie. She wondered if the movie channel was showing any Cary Grant movies. The weight of her small shopping bag bounced against her leg. She could also devise a way to secure her underwear. Commence Operation Petticoat, she thought to her self as she made her way to her room.