My life: The Great Panty Raid

Chapter VI
The Mary Kay convention was only two days away. That gave me 48 hours to plan what would go down in pug lore as The Great Panty Raid. I obtained blueprints for the Hyatt Regency Dallas. I procured a fleet of tractor-trailers. I conducted surveillance on the hotel staff, learning the ins and outs of the front desk, the concierge desk and the kitchen. I shadowed the maids to learn their precise cleaning schedules. I had not paid such attention to detail since the earliest days of my rap career. My single-minded focus was on the prize -- those glorious, glorious panties. Soon, zero hour arrived. As I watched through binoculars from my perch in Reunion Tower's rotating top-floor lounge, I saw a stream of women depart the hotel. Most walked the short distance down Young Street to the convention center. A few piled into their pink Cadillacs. When the flow of pink-clad women slowed to a trickle, I made my move.

I donned a pink dress and matching bonnet, which I pulled tightly around my face. After descending from the tower, I made my way toward the lobby. Then I stood upright, walking as gracefully as I could on my back legs toward the elevators. As I neared the first bank of elevators, a bellboy approached. We both entered the elevator car at the same time, and he gave me a suspicious look. I kept my eyes forward and held my breath, doing my best to look nonchalant. It seemed to work, as he exited on the third floor. I let out a sigh of relief and let my front paws hit the carpet. I was home free now, with only the maids to work around -- and I had their cleaning schedule memorized. They wouldn't be on the 28th floor, my first stop, until noon. Using the set of master keys that I had swiped from the hotel lobby the night before, I made my way into the first room. I opened a large suitcase, and out spilled a magnificent rainbow of undergarments. There must have been 20 pairs, all extra-large. A single tear of joy fell from my large left eye. The next eight hours are a blur in my mind. I raced up and down the halls, loading up bags and taking them down the freight elevator to my waiting trucks below. Running on pure adrenaline, I cleaned out floor after floor, sniffing out every last pair. But though I had gathered the ultimate underwear stash, I would never get to enjoy it. I would never swim through an endless sea of panties, Scrooge McDuck-style.

To be continued