The sun shines on the righteous


Brenda had no bikini lines; she did NOT want bikini lines. She and her husband Paul moved into their new home two weeks before the beginning of summer. All the moving boxes had vanished and the renovations, papering and painting were finished. And now, the Fourth of July had arrived. They vowed to do nothing today, other than lie in the sun in their back yard. Paul moved lounges strategically, to catch the most rays. He brought out a cooler and three bottles of wine. Brenda set out a wicker picnic basket crammed with her husband’s favorite. Fried chicken, potato salad, and Cole slaw.
They changed clothes in the half-bath off the kitchen. And just before Brenda opened the patio door to step outside, she removed her bikini top and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.
Paul’s jaw dropped, “What are you doing? You can’t go outside like that!”
“Why not? It’s our house, and our yard has a privacy fence. C’mon, it’ll be okay.”
“You’ll get a terrible sunburn you know.”
“I want to work on an all-over tan. I’ve never had one, and you know what?”
I’ll never get it this way. She rolled down and kicked off her bikini bottom. “C’mon big boy, let’s catch some rays!”
“Brenda, you CAN’T go out like that!”
“Okay then, we’ll both go out like this!” And she reached over and tugged down Paul’s bathing trunks.
“Shuck ‘em dude. It’s time we communed with nature.”
“We can commune better after it gets dark!”
“You’re chicken.”
“No I am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I am not.”
Brenda opened the patio door and sprinted to a lounge, plopped down, and stretched out. She turned and saw Paul peeking through a partly closed-door. She waggled a finger at him. “C’mon scaredy cat, nobody’s going to see us. This is our place. Our little haven. C’mon, honey. Be brave.”
Paul removed his ball cap, held it in front of himself, and sidestepped to the lounge next to his wife’s.
Brenda took a container of lotion from inside the cooler. “This is the life. Check your watch honey; we need to turn over every 15 minutes. We don’t want to singe our Twinkies do we?”
“I think we’re breaking some kind of law. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“This is our land, so it’s our law,” Brenda said. “Put that cap on your head and rub some of this suntan lotion on my back. I’ll pour the wine.”
Paul looked left, right, stood up, and put on his cap. “Do you have the feeling we’re being watched? I don’t think this is a good idea Bren.”
“Don’t be a wuss. Smear a lot of that stuff on my lower back. Nothing hurts worse than sunburn on my lower back.”
“It’s not your lower back you should worry about .”
Two glasses of wine later, the sun had gradually moved across the sky. When their third glass was more than half empty, exhilaration struck. A feeling of love and joy kicked in, big time. Husband and wife, laughing and giggling, never heard the wump, wump, wump sound. They had no inkling that a convenience store about six blocks away got robbed, and the thief was running in their direction; a police helicopter in hot pursuit.
A cigar-shaped, blue chopper cast a giant black shadow over Paul and Brenda’s back yard. The sun gleamed from its cockpit window and a voice boomed above the wump, wump of the chopper’s engine. “Stay where you are, we have you surrounded. Do not move. Show us your hands!”
Paul and Brenda shrieked in unison, sat straight up in their lounges, and thrust their hands skyward. Paul shouted at the airborne mechanical menace, “Don’t shoot. It’s our back yard. Get outta here.”
The robber, seeing Paul and Brenda’s cars in the driveway and their garage door wide open, recognized an opportunity for escape. He ran inside the garage, found a side door, rushed into the back yard, fell over Brenda’s chaise lounge, and crashed to the ground.
Brenda’s shriek was loud enough to petrify a wombat. The breathless thief rolled over on his back, looked up and wheezed “Jeez lady, you lookin’…ssssppftttt.”
The intruder’s shoulders hunched up, his elbows locked, both legs jerked, and his face contorted in spasms. A Taser dart protruded from his left shoulder.
“Clear!” An officer shouted into a lapel gizmo.
And what sounded like three Clydesdales rushing through the garage were four lumbering policemen.”
A very tall police officer glanced at the naked homeowners, and removed his hat. He called out, “Hi there, I’m Bill Jennings, aren’t you Paul, and isn’t this…”
“Yes, it is. This is my wife, Brenda. Do you KNOW us?”
“Sure. My wife and I live next door. Your real estate agent introduced us. I was putting out the trash the day you looked at the house. Guess I didn’t I tell you I was on the force huh?”

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