S-ENF-006 - RIPPED CLOTH

Item #: S-ENF-006
Object Designation: Ripped Cloth

"Be careful out there, Thelma. Remember, you're not a field agent."

"I'll be fine," said Thelma, a little grumpily. "I can handle myself." The svelte red dress clung to her bountiful curves like a second skin. She felt a little uncomfortable, hanging back at the edge of the crowd, noticing how many eyes were flickering in her direction.

"All we need you to do is get within five feet of the target," said Carol's voice, over the earpiece. "The power nullifier in your bracelet should do the rest. But keep your eyes on her. Don't look away for a second, no matter what happens."

"Is that important?"

"The target's a thief. We think she has some kind of power to create distractions. It's classic probability manipulation."

Thelma looked around the room. Handsome men in tuxedos, beautiful women in evening gowns. (Plus one handsome man in an evening gown, this being the 21st century, after all.) The Duke of Salzburg's annual Midsummer Ball was in full swing.

And there it was. A diamond the size of a walnut, glittering around the neck of an aristocratic blonde. That had to be the thief's goal! She'd create a distraction, get everyone looking in one direction, then swipe the necklace from behind and disappear before anyone had noticed it was gone.

Wow, Thelma thought. The diamond was a real eyecatcher. She couldn't look away. It was going to have to be a pretty big distraction.

But what was that, behind the blonde? A waitress? Or something more sinister? Thelma took a hasty step forward, intending to get as close as possible.

She heard a rip.

"I say," said a British chap with a moustache, looking down at the ruins of Thelma's dress, which had caught on his wristwatch as he'd turned around to get himself another drink. "I'm most frightfully sorry, old gel, I didn't mean to... bloody hell, don't they have knickers where you come from?"

Thelma looked down at herself. The dress had been a Foundation loaner, a little too tight for her, and after some experiment she had found it was quite impossible to wear underwear beneath it. So she was now standing in the middle of a very crowded ballroom, full of the cream of European society, wearing nothing but makeup and high heels.

"EEEEK!" she screamed, and clasped her hands to her bare body, one arm struggling to conceal her ample breasts as the other dove between her legs. There was nothing to prevent the assembled aristocrats from cheerfully ogling her round bare bottom, of course, and they proceeded to do so. The blonde laughed so hard she dropped her drink, completely unaware that her necklace was already gone.