Run, Dr. Joan Watson kept thinking. If you wish to keep your clothes on, run.
What if I don't want to keep my clothes on? thought Joan.
Don't be silly, she answered. Why would I want to lose my clothes?
Who knows? Why would you want to keep them on?
Are you saying that we should give our throat to the wolf with the red lipstick?
No. But we can at least give her our clothes.
Here? Now? On a crowded train?
It's not crowded right now.
But there are so many people on board. And they'll see.
So let them see.
And there's no guarantee that wolf-thing will stop with my clothing.
Oh, right. I hadn't considered that.
Though come to think of it, I could probably run a lot faster if I didn't have to wear this damn corset.
That's my girl.
And no sooner had Joan finished that thought than she found herself tripping over her feet and falling to the floor.
Before Joan could get up again, the creature was upon her and ripping her bra off. Then it tore off her pantaloons. Then it started tearing up the lacing on Joan's corset until it got looser and looser and looser...
"Get away from that lady, you darn varmint!" cried a female voice from behind the creature. "You lay one more finger on her and I'll blast your head off!"
The creature just paused in its actions and said, "Oh, bother. I don't suppose she's talking to you."
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