Sylvester moves on

As the two women struggled, Sylvester took in the scene. The auburn girl's butt was on display for the whole world to see, and the blonde was receiving the wedgie of the century. Finally, he decided they had had enough of their torment, and snapped his fingers.

The blonde's panties ripped off and remained hung on the parking meter, and the auburn girl's hands were freed, and she fixed her clothing. They both were blushing deeply and went to hurry off. As they did, Sylvester snapped his fingers.

As the girls walked, they each started farting loudly. They each farted with every step they took. The blonde's farts were a different pitch than the auburn girl's, and each was loud enough for anyone within twenty feet to hear. The girls walked off, farting to every step then broke off in a run, leaving a trumpet/saxophone combo in their wake. Sylvester smiled. The farting would not stop until the girls got home.

Sylvester felt peckish. Imps eat honey, fruit, nuts, and wine, so he snapped his fingers and appeared in an upscale downtown bistro. It was lunch time and the place was packed with well-heeled, well-dressed, professionals. There was not a table to be had, not that Sylvester needed one. He scanned the crowd.