A silly, quite dastardly, yet self-inflicted prank played upon my
bottom due to dissatisfaction as a result of excessive
boredom on this tedious, but increasingly harrowing morrow's
eve.
"Sir Raleigh, I've put a feather in my
bottom. Oh, do you not believe me? Dearest Raleigh, it behooves me to let
loose my knickers, turn round, and trouble you to glance upon the telling feather which mirrors my equally present heart. I trust that this display
may end all doubts in me, Raleigh, for I do love you."