Bill, Veronica and The Party

Finally, a cocktail shaker of the proper proportions!

At left is the Sasquatch available here. It's the only type of Bigfoot hunting that attracts me.

Content follows:
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Bernie Aston was hosting the party. One of his soon-to-be-flop productions had its premier earlier in the evening. His West Hollywood home was the current after-party of choice for the well-dressed indigent of the cocktail-party circuit.

A very thin knife blade snicked down the outer jam and Bill stepped into the guest suite closing the door. He held the knife menacing the pair within.

"With Bernie then - is it?"

Veronica barely turned. She was in her silk slip and heels standing by the oval guest bed built upon a three-step platform in the middle of the room. Pastel wool tumbled down and across as wall-to-wall. She held a bottle of Chanel in one hand as another woman might hold a champagne flute.

"Yes, Bernie." Her voice pulled the name out. Berrrrrrnnnnie.

The subject of the accusation lay upon the bed in his underwear, his hands secured by gold ropes which previously held back the curtains. His mouth was stuffed with an uncertain item of clothing unlikely to have been his own.

"Forget your date?" Bill asked. He took two steps closer and needed nearly a half-dozen more to be a real threat. The tuxedo tried to hide a Chicago tough but the  knife flashed the fact as a marquee.

"Hmm... memory problems seem to be the party game tonight," Veronica answered. "I forget you. Bernie forgets he's married. You forget to bring me a drink."

Veronica turns and stretches out a her hand. "I forget my lighter. Be a dear?"

Bill pulled a Zippo from his jacket pocket and flicked it through the air. Veronica's red-cawed fingertips snatched it and in one practiced motion struck a flame.

"Oh - and Bernie forgets the combination to the safe."

Veronica spritzed the perfume over the prone man applying the lighter for a flame effect. Bernie could have used that trick in the movie: Sinbad's Eighth Labor.

"I told you: safe-cracking is effortless."

"... and I didn't believe you," Bill said. "Bad on me."