Bonnie makes it home

Bonnie held her breath. She was almost home. It had been a very long, very naked journey from the suburbs of Greenvalley all the way back to the suburbs of Pinkwhistle, and she'd almost been caught too many times to count. That tomboy on the bike had come close to spotting her right away, but luckily she'd got some kind of really interesting message on the phone at the last moment.

Yes, it had been a heart-pounding, humiliating adventure for naked little Bonnie Driscoll. But that was her house, right up ahead! As long as she didn't run into a single other person, or entire group of people with cameras, on the way down the street, she was home free!

She took a deep breath, and stepped around the corner.

"Hey," said Ben, pointing. "A red-capped tomtit!"

"Ben, you're confused," Vicky scolded. "That's Bonnie Driscoll! With no clothes on!"

"Aw. Too bad."

"But we can still take pictures of her."

Ben cheered up. "You mean it?"

"Why not?"

"No, please," protested Bonnie, covering herself with her hands, her face growing hot as the birdwatching club surrounded her. "You can't take lots of embarrassing naked pictures of me with those high-definition cameras and post them on the internet for everyone to see! It's not allowed!"

But it was. And they did.