Laurel and Lisa join you in your study.

Sitting in your study you sip a bourbon over ice, and casually leaf through some T.S. Eliot. Reading Prufrock for the thousandth time, you start to feel impatient when you look up and Laurel and Lisa are framed in your study door.

"Excuse me Mr. Chandler. We're reporting for detention," your wife chirps girlishly. The two of them are dressed in matching schoolgirl outfits, dark blazers, white button shirts and ties, plaid skirts that come to mid-thigh, and knee high white socks and black shoes. Laurel's honey blonde hair is in pigtails, while Lisa's brunette mane hangs loose. They look utterly innocent, utterly sexy, and absolutely edible.

"Come in girls. What did you do to get sent to detention?"

"Miss Dunstan said we were being naughty. We didn't meant to be," Lisa answers.

"She caught us near the boys locker room. She thought we were trying to sneak in," Laurel adds, holding the hem of her skirt and rocking from side to side, looking at the floor.

"Were you trying to sneak in?" The two of them look at each other and blush, then look at the floor abashed.

"Maybe a little," Lisa answers in a small voice. "Miss Dunstan said we had to be punished."

"We were just curious, Mr. Chandler," Laurel adds. "We weren't really naughty."