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Debbie Makes A Resolution

David Presents

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Joined
Nov 18, 2008
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“Oh, wow, Debbie’s all tied up!” exclaimed Stan.

The muscular young man stared in wonder at the invitation. He had been puzzled to discover Debbie had actually mailed anything, thinking it more likely she would simply email or call him. Upon opening the envelope, he had discovered a large card, words printed in flowing script at the top and bottom, with a photograph of Debbie, standing bound and gagged in a winter wonderland setting, in the center.

A miniature silk top hat perched at an angle upon her coppery red hair, with a circle of holly adorning the brim and a green ribbon running under her chin to hold it in place. A red and white striped scarf wound loosely about her neck and fell over her bare shoulders. She wore a white minidress with a column of three puffy spheres of black fabric down the center, suggesting pieces of coal. White fishnet stockings, black gloves, and black high-heeled boots completed her snowwoman costume.

Debbie’s arms extended outwardly from her body, tied with thick, gold ribbons to two enormous candy canes rising out of the white ground on either side of her. Another ribbon, tied to the base of each candy cane, circled about her ankles, binding them together. A fourth, thinner gold ribbon crossed her lips, serving as the gag.

The background was a painted scene of snow resting on the branches of green pine trees. Finally, to complete this surreal image, an old-fashioned grandfather clock, tilted and thinly covered in snow, stood off to one side, its hands pointing to five minute to twelve.

Stan eventually moved his eyes away from this mesmerizing image and read the script:

You are invited to a party! Deborah Irene Drummond cordially requests that you join her in ringing in the New Year at her home on December 31, 2009, from 9 PM until ??? RSVP

“What an awful lot of trouble to go through,” reflected Stan. “And what does that ‘RSVP’ thing mean? Not that it matters, since I’m not going anyhow.” He idly tossed the card into his kitchen trash basket. I mean, Debbie’s a cute chick and everything, but….”

He whirled about and retrieved the invitation, brushing off bits of eggshell and coffee grounds. “But if she’s having a party, then Honey will be there too!”

Honey was Honoria Hudson, wealthy, glamorous, and blonde. She was usually Debbie’s best friend, sometimes her worst enemy, and occasionally both at once. It was a complex matter, as life so often is.

“This will be my chance to spend some time with Honey,” he thought happily. “She’s absolutely crazy about me, although she’s so shy when I’m around that it causes her to say strange things, like calling me a muscle-bound moron and saying ‘Leave me alone,’ and ‘I wouldn’t go on a date with you if you were the last guy on Earth!’ But it’s all just her shyness, so this is a chance for her to get to know the real Stan!

“But still, what does ‘RSVP’ mean? It’s probably something important.” He thought for a couple minutes, but came up with no answers. “I’ll call Debbie and ask her,” he decided. “That way I can let her know I’m coming to her party at the same time.”

He opened his cell phone and paused. “I don’t know, though,” he mused. “It might make me look not too smart if I have to ask her. I know what I’ll do; I’ll call my buddy, Herbie. He’s really brainy and never acts like I’m dumb when I ask him questions.”

So selected another number instead, thus unwittingly setting into motion a chain of events that would undo all of Debbie’s carefully laid plans….

___
“Hi, Debbie, Happy New Year. Wow, that’s a pretty dress,” enthused Stan.

“Happy New Year, and thank you, Stan,” she replied, twirling around so he could see her outfit. It was a long dress with a slit high up one side, wintry blue with a broad, uneven white border around the hem, embellished with Happy New Year! written in spidery letters all about. A soft, silver sash was tied around her waist, while matching glittery high heels adorned her feet. “I’m glad you like it because…”

“Oh, I brought you this for the party,” he interrupted.

Debbie gingerly handled the bright, pinkish-purple bottle. “Mmm, Foome’s Barn Untamed Cherry Berry,” she enthused, reading from the white label containing bold, colorful letters and a picture of mixed fruits. Smaller gray letters underneath proclaimed it to be Artificially flavored and colored apple wine product. “I’ll put it next to the bottle of champagne I have ready to pop at midnight.”

The magnum of imported champagne rested in a silver ice bucket, foil peeled from the upper neck to reveal the large cork. Two tall, narrow glasses of crystal stood invitingly in front, linen napkins of chartreuse folded neatly within. Poinsettias graced the corners of the small table, while happy gingerbread men shyly peeped over the edge of a ceramic cookie jar, their frosted eyes wide with wonder.

“Hey, where is everybody? Am I the first person to arrive?”

“Um, yes, about that,” answered Debbie awkwardly, realizing the time had come to explain to Stan that she had perhaps exaggerated matters just a trifle in calling this a party when he was the only invited guest. She nervously handed him a party hat. “Promise you won’t be mad, Stan, but no one is coming besides you. You see…”

Ding-dong!

“Who could that be?” she asked in surprise.

“Another guest, of course,” shrugged Stan, going to answer the front door of Debbie’s small house. “Why did you think I was the only person who would come, Debbie? Everybody knows you always throw great parties. Maybe it’s Honey! You know she’s got this thing for me. Oh, it’s you, Herbie. Glad to see you could make it, and Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Stan, hi Debbie,” the newcomer greeted them, placing a short, broad can into Debbie’s startled hand. “I brought some mixed nuts for your party, since I feel it’s important to be able to provide one’s guests with healthy alternatives to the usual…”

“Thank you, Herbie,” interrupted Debbie impatiently, snapping the lid open and pouring the nuts into an empty candy dish.

“When Stan called me the other day about the party I checked my mailbox right away,” explained Herbert in response to Debbie’s unasked question. “I was quite surprised not to discover an invitation; however, I quickly surmised that the Post Office, being somewhat overwhelmed with deliveries at this time of year, had accidentally mislaid your missive.”

Ding-dong!

“Just how many people did you call, Stan?” asked Debbie in exasperation as she opened the door to admit her two friends, Lori and Cheryl, along with their dates, Jim and Ted, or maybe they were Tim and Jed; Debbie didn’t quite catch their names in the confusion of the moment, and in any event, they both appeared quite interchangeable, just like the two brunettes’ outfits; Lori wearing a red blouse with a green skirt and Cheryl wearing a green blouse with a red skirt.

They sashayed inside and turned on loud music, filling Debbie’s small living room with sound as it continued to fill up with people. The doorbell kept on ringing as more guests arrived, some old acquaintances she had not even seen for years, until finally, Honey showed up, fashionably late as the debutante generally was. She did not arrive with a date, as she was there to see Herbert, who was there to see Debbie, who had only wanted Stan at her party, who only come only to see Honey.

“Happy New Year, Honey. Wow, you look hot!” exclaimed Stan, noticing her slipping of her expensive coat. “Kind of funny, considering you’ve got on a snowflake dress.”

“Yeah, Happy New Year,” Honey replied absently, snapping a gingerbread man in half with her small fingers as she scanned the room for Herbert. Her frilly white dress looked very fragile, being designed to give the appearance that several large snowflakes had settled softly on her body to cover her.

“If Honey’s here, then that must be the last of the guests,” decided Debbie, hurrying to her kitchen. She pulled out a block of smoked cheese and a roll of summer sausage, Christmas gifts from her Aunt Jobiska, who really could have afforded to have bought her something much nicer, although at least they came in handy now, with so many unexpected guests.

“Do you need some help, Debbie?” asked Honey, gliding in.

“Yeah, cut these up into tiny squares and stick toothpicks into them,” replied Debbie, darting to her freezer for a package of chicken taquitos she poured onto a plate and slapped into the microwave.

Honey daintily sliced the cheese and sausage. “You know, Debbie, I don’t mean to be rude, but for a big party like this you seem kind of, um, unprepared.”

“I guess I didn’t expect so many people to show up,” Debbie answered a bit vaguely, not wanting to give Honey the satisfaction of knowing what her real plans were and how they had gone so wrong. She wondered if she ordered some pizza and Chinese whether they were too busy to deliver and whether Honey would agree to pay, as her own credit cards were exhausted from her spirited Christmas shopping.

Beep, beep, beep, announced the microwave irritably, impatiently awaiting her attention. Debbie scooped the taquitos out and handed them to Honey. “Could you run these in for everyone?”

Honey frowned, but took the taquitos in one hand, lifted the tray of cheese and sausage in the other, and flounced out the kitchen, pushing the swinging door open with an elbow.

“All I wanted was a quiet evening alone with Stan. How did things ever get so complicated?” Debbie sighed. She opened the rear door to check her pantry. Just as she stepped inside, though, things suddenly became considerably more complicated, indeed.

___
“Grab her, Mouse!”

“Mpfff!” protested Debbie as Mouse wrapped an enormous arm around her, pinning her arms as he slapped his meaty hand over her mouth. “Yeah, I grabbed her good, Brains. She ain’t going nowhere.”

“Mpfff,” protested Debbie, struggling wildly in his grasp.

“Good job, Mouse,” praised Brains. He was much smaller than his partner, but the two men looked much the same otherwise, both dressed in dark sweatshirts, shirts, pants, and sneakers. Brains surveyed Debbie for a moment, idly twisting a short length of yellow rope in his hand. “Okay, now to tie her up.”

“Mpfff!” exploded Debbie as he came near, lifting a leg from within her dress to deliver Brains a kick to the head that tumbled him in a corner.

“Brains, are you okay?” asked Mouse in concern. He loosened his grip on Debbie who just about wriggled loose before he realized what she was doing and wrapped his arm around again.

“Yeah, she didn’t hit me nowhere important,” replied Brains, rubbing his scalp.

“Why did you hurt Brains like that?” demanded Mouse of Debbie. “He was only going to tie you up like you hired him to do.”

“Mpfff!” Debbie attempted to explain. She had first met this pair of petty criminals back in the summer when Herbert had hired them to kidnap her so he could rescue her. Debbie had little trouble finding them again when she was making her arrangements for this evening. However, her plans had called for her to be alone with Stan; now that she had a full party going she didn’t want to be tied up after all!

“Keep still so Brains can tie you up!” ordered Mouse.

“Mpfff!” said Debbie defiantly.

“No, Mouse, you ain’t thinking,” Brains told him. “She has to struggle like that.”

“Um, she does?”

“Sure. You see, people look different when they’ve been tied up willingly and when they’ve put up a fight, and she don’t want no one to know this whole thing is a fake.”

“Oh, I see! Gosh, Brains, I sure wish I was smart like you.”

“I think we’d better gag her first, though, so you can use both hands to keep her still.” Brains dropped the rope and reached into a small bag that looked like the sort doctors used to carry to make house calls. He pulled out a white handkerchief, which he folded, and a blue bandana decorated with yellow polka dots. He approached Debbie obliquely so she could not kick him again. “Okay, Mouse, remove your hand from her mouth.”

“Listen, guys, I know I hired you to do this, but it’s all off now; you see mpfff!” said Debbie quickly, but not quickly enough. Brains inserted the handkerchief into her mouth, which was wide open, and then tied the bandana to complete the gag.

“Maybe we’d better calm those legs next,” he decided. He used the rope he had dropped to the floor to bind Debbie’s ankles together. He produced more rope from his bag and lashed her knees together, around the dress.

“Now you can’t kick Brains no more,” announced Mouse happily.

“Mpfff,” replied Debbie. With Mouse holding her so tightly, she had plenty of leverage. She lifted her feet off the floor and slammed them into Brains’ stomach.

“Oof!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad you’re sure doing a good job of putting up a struggle, Debbie, but I’ll be even gladder when this job is done. Mouse, set her down on the floor, by them shelves.”

“Right here, Brains?” asked Mouse, sitting Debbie down so her back was against the shelves and her legs stretched out in front of her.

“Yeah, that’ll do, now hold her arms still.” Thin poles ran up the corners of the shelves, so Brains used one of them to restrain Debbie further. He tied her wrists behind the pole and bound ran rope from her upper arms to the pole, tying her securely.

“That’s over with,” sighed Brains, wiping his forehead.

The pantry door swung open to admit Honey. “Debbie, are you in here? Hey, what’s going mpfff!?”

“Hey, boss, I thought we was paid to only tie up one girl,” said Mouse, holding Honey just as he had Debbie.

“Yeah, that was our agreement.” Brains looked accusingly at Debbie. “What’s the deal, trying to get us to tie you of you for the price of one?”

“We should just refuse to tie her up,” decided Mouse.

“Mpfff!” agreed Debbie, shaking her head.

“Yeah, that’s what we should do,” said Brains, reaching into his bag for another handkerchief and bandana, this one green with yellow diagonal stripes that crisscrossed. “But we won’t. We might want to do business with Debbie again, so we’ll tie her friend up, gratis. But we ain’t going to do it again, you understand?”

“Mpfff!” protested Debbie and Honey together.

“Be careful, Brains. This wildcat looks smaller, but she’s even more of a fighter than Debbie,” observed Mouse, who truly was having a hard time keeping Honey under control.

“Relax, Mouse, I can handle her. Now, move your hand from her mouth.”

Honey opened her mouth to give a piercing scream, but Brains, who was used to this sort of thing from having burglarized numerous homes, was ready for her. Pop, in went the handkerchief, and around went the bandana. He tied her legs just as he had Debbie’s, but simply tied her arms behind her back without securing them to another post.

“Okay, Mouse, set her down by to friend there.”

“Right, Brains,” agreed Mouse, placing Honey in a sitting position next to Debbie.

“Okay, we’re all set,” decided Brains, picking up his tool bag. “Come on, Mouse, let’s get out of here before another dame shows up wanting to be tied up.”

Brains and Mouse climbed out a window, carefully shutting it behind them and then faded into the snowy night.

___
“Mpfff!” both captive damsels screamed together, but the music from the living room was much louder than their calls for help, and it quickly became obvious no one would ever hear them.

“Mpfff!” said Honey more quietly, giving up trying to attract attention. She looked angrily at Debbie. She knew, from the burglars’ conversation, that it was Debbie’s fault they were bound and gagged! Why did Debbie always have to do things like this?

“Mpfff,” apologized Debbie meekly, tugging with her arms on the ropes. Honey couldn’t really be upset with her for what she did, could she? Debbie had wanted Stan alone for the night, which, along with the rescue she had arranged, she was sure would make him forget about Honey. And it wasn’t as if Honey should object to that, either, since Honey had her sights set on Herbert and was always trying to deflect Stan’s unwanted attention. So Honey should actually be grateful to Debbie for what she had tried to do!

In any event, this was no time for casting blame! They could talk about what happened later; now they needed to work together to get free! And that should not be so hard, for Debbie noticed that, unlike herself, Honey was not bound to the shelves. She tried pointing with her head, to indicate that her friend should scoot over and try to untie her knots.

Honey contemptuously looked away, showing no signs of being willing to cooperate. She drew her legs up and rested her trussed hands on a shelf, accidentally knocking off a can of peaches. She pushed with her feet, raising herself slightly off the floor. She arched her back and groped blindly with her fingers, finding the next level of shelves, dislodging two small cans of Vienna sausage and a flat tin of smoked oysters in the process. She continued pushing with her feet and steadying herself with her hands until, after unsettling several more containers, she finally stood on her feet.

Honey took a couple deep breaths through her nose. She slipped one foot forward an inch and then the other, her shiny white shoes squeaking as they rubbed together during the slow trek towards the pantry door.

“Mpfff!” called out Debbie, pleading with Honey to return so they could work together to get free. She had plenty of time to make her pleas, for it took Honey several minutes to work her way to the door, but the blonde did not look back until she finally reached her goal. She slowly turned herself around, pointedly ignoring Debbie as she stretched out her hands and fiddled with the doorknob, slightly pushing it open.

“Mpfff!” pleaded Debbie. Honey wasn’t just going to leave her, was she?

Yes, Honey was. She slowly moved through the partially open entrance, and then used a shoulder to slam it emphatically closed again. Snick! The knob rattled as the door settled closed. Debbie was left all alone.

She pulled frantically on the ropes binding her arms, but Brains had tied her very well. Tugging on the ropes appeared simply to pull the knots tighter, all well out of reach of her fingers. She thumped her feet onto the floor in frustration. Why had Honey gone off and left her alone like that? Well, she had gone off to get help, of course. Help for Honey, anyhow. But after she was released, she would come right back and untie her best friend, Debbie. Yes, that’s what Honey was going to do!

Wasn’t it?

“I know she can’t move very fast, but the kitchen isn’t that big! She should have managed to get to the door and out into the living room by now! She isn’t planning on just leaving me like this, is she?”

___
Honey moved slowly through the kitchen. She noticed the large knife she had used earlier lying on the counter. She had a brief image of using it to cut her bonds, but quickly dismissed the notion. She felt it was an idea that sounded easier in theory than in practice, and besides, she had other plans.

She moved to the swinging door and nudged it slightly open with her forehead, peeping into the dining room with one eye. The dining room opened into the living room, but as the living room was quite full, a few guests spilled over, including those looking for the party hors d’oeuvres placed on the table.

Herbert stood off to one side, looking rather lonely. Honey frowned. How could she attract his attention without attracting anyone else’s? Luckily, the problem was solved for her. Herbert walked over to the table and, noticing most of the plates were empty, stacked some in his hand and headed for the kitchen.

Honey slipped back as quickly as her bound legs permitted, moving out of sight of the opening as Herbert entered. “Mpfff!” she called out, managing to make herself heard despite the background noise.

“Honey!” Herbert almost dropped the dishes in his surprise, but managed to deposit them on the counter before hurrying to Honey’s side. Her predicament briefly reminded him of an incident that had occurred a few months earlier when Honey had tied herself up to attract his attention. He quickly perceived, though, that not only had she not tied herself up, but also that she had struggled quite valiantly to prevent herself from before so bound.

Herbert reached for the knife and cut Honey’s bonds, reassuring her with gentle words filled with genuine concern. “Are you okay, Honey?”

“I’m okay now,” she agreed, slipping a kiss onto his surprised face. “I was in the kitchen making some snacks when a couple masked guys slipped in the window! They tied me up before I could do anything, but then decided from all the noise of the party that they should just go, so they did, leaving me like that!”

“Well, you’re safe now, that’s what matters,” decided Herbert, who was finding it hard to speak the way Honey was pressed up against him. “However we really should call 911 and report this incident to the police.”

“Oh, don’t bother, Herbie!” exclaimed Honey. “Those guys are long gone, so the police will have no idea where they are, anyhow.”

“They could follow their footprints in the snow,” objected Herbert, “or at least gather some evidence from them,”

“Come on, Herbie, don’t worry about the police. Don’t you want to dance with me?” Honey’s dulcet words seemed sprinkled cinnamon and nutmeg. She swayed her hips to the music as she walked out, certain that Herbert would follow her, which of course he did.

Herbert found it very enjoyable dancing with Honey, but an uneasy thought settled into his head. “Where’s Debbie?” he asked, looking around.

“Oh, you know, she busy with…”

“Mind if I cut in?” rumbled Stan, wanting his chance with Honey.

“No, Herbie and I are happy together!” answered Honey angrily. “Find someone else to bother!”

“But I want to dance and there isn’t anyone available,” Stan pleaded, flexing his muscles for Honey’s inspection.

“Go dance with Debbie,” Honey suggested.

“But I want to dance with you. And besides, she isn’t around.”

“She’s in the pantry, where you can use those big muscles that you’re so proud of to help her, um, with what she’s doing in there.”

“The pantry?” asked Stan blankly.

“Yes, it’s that small room behind the kitchen. Just go there. Believe me, she’ll be very glad to see you.”

Indeed Debbie was, as can be imagined. Stan’s response to seeing Debbie bound and gagged was quite similar to Herbert’s reaction to Honey, so a few minutes later he was dancing in the living room with the vivacious redhead.

The party continued energetically for some time until Lori suddenly slipped away from Jim (or Ted) and stopped the music. “Hey you guys, it’s almost midnight!” she called out.

Cheryl removed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket, holding it up. “It’s time to pop this baby open!” she announced.

The assembled guests looked at the clock and started chanting. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, Happy New Year!”

“Lest old acquaintance be forgot,” everyone sang.

“Blah, blah, la, blah, blah, blah,” mumbled Stan in his deep voice, not knowing the words.

Debbie smiled happily. Although events had not transpired the way she planned, she had Stan in her arms, just the result she wanted. “And my New Year’s resolution is to keep him there,” she promised herself.

It was a promise she had made often before without success, but right then, at least, it seemed quite possible.
 
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