Drug- and Sex-Obsessed Brats 3

"I have never before seen the inside of your abode," Ritz said, a cagey sort of insouciance in both of her twinkling eyes.

"Noted," I replied, "but I'm more concerned with the rather disgusting footprints you are leaving on my Kevin O'Brien Daisy Petals area rug. Master weavers in India and other world-class rug-making regions didn't labor for countless hours so some American's platonic female friend could soil it at an ungodly hour of the night."

Like a cowed mongrel, Ritz backed out of the house. She walked on the tips of her toes, leaving a distressing number of tiny brown smudges on the strikingly dynamic grain and knots of my Acacia hardwood floors, further sullying the positive energy, exuberant flow and optimistic attitude of my home.