Bonnie walks across town in her underwear

"Bonnie Driscoll," said Kitty Davis, the town's stern librarian, hair tied up in a neat brown bun as she stood outside her library, arms crossed, tapping her foot. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"...hello, Miss Davis."

"This is outrageous behaviour, young lady. I'm surprised at you."

"I lost a bet," muttered Bonnie, trying not to meet her eye. It was a warm Sunday afternoon, and it seemed like half the town had come out to stroll down Main Street.

There was Doc Topper, who ran the Olde Fashioned Malt Shoppe, looking smart as always in his straw hat. There was Sheriff Nina Reyes, and her deputy Joe Jenkins, who kept tripping over his own feet, but who probably meant well. Even the Mayor was out walking the streets!

And, of course, there were all the students from Pinkwhistle High, who'd come out to drink malted milkshakes, kick balls around and generally make nuisances of themselves. Three members of the chess club, two men and a woman, were sitting on the steps of the library behind Kitty, watching Bonnie walk past.

"Gambling? A most insalubrious pastime. It seems to me," said Kitty Davis, "that I have never met another young lady so utterly determined to make a fool of herself as you are. You ought to feel ashamed."

"Yes, Miss Davis," said Bonnie. As a matter of fact, she did feel ashamed. She was standing right in the middle of the bustling town of Pinkwhistle, wearing nothing but her yellow panties and lucky rainbow polka-dot bra. Anyone would feel ashamed in that situation.

"Hey, look," she heard Hank yell. He was sitting in the window of Doc Topper's shop, eating a huge hamburger with one hand, pointing at her with the other. "Bonnie Driscoll's in her BRA and PANTIES!"

Bonnie took a deep breath. She took another step forward, resisting the urge to sprint. The bet had been to walk across the whole town in nothing but her underwear, all the way to Pinkwhistle Lake, and Bonnie Driscoll didn't welsh on bets.