This evening, Natasha unveils her latest "Molly" painting.
"I dread this," says Molly at breakfast.
"She promised no sex toys," says Roderick, reassuringly, between bites of scrapple.
"I don't let her near mine," says Megan, giggling.
"Still, I just think she has something up her sleeve," says Molly. She refers, of course, to Natasha's incomplete understanding of the Beauneville Latin motto, which translates as "Anything is permitted as long as it's tasteful"; she comprehends the former but not the latter.
"Did I tell you that 2013 is the bicentennial of Pride and Prejudice?" interjects Megan, changing the subject. Roderick and Molly are too kind to point out that since New Years' Day, Megan has spoken of little else.
At the appointed hour, Roderick and Molly walk together down the hall to Natasha's suite and knock on the door. A butler opens the door and peers at them imperiously. "Yessss?"
"Um, we're here for the unveiling."
"I presuuuuume that you are invited."
"Yes, we are."
"And your names?"
"Roderick and Molly."
The butler looks over his shoulder. "They may enter." It's Natasha speaking. The butler stands aside and beckons to them. They enter.
Albert and Pamela are already there, noshing. You can generally depend on Albert and Pamela to arrive to any event early, and to liberally partake in whatever digestibles are present.
Natasha greets Roderick and Molly. "I'm so glad you came."
Roderick looks at the butler and back to Natasha. "What happened to the last one?"
Natasha dismisses the question. "I need variety."
Shortly, Anna and Megan arrive. Megan wears her favorite 'Jane Austen meets S&M' outfit, consisting of a long Regency gown and a dog collar. While Molly is in the bathroom, Megan nuzzles up to Roderick. "Want to know what I'm wearing underneath this gown?"
"Um..."
"Nothing." She whispers that information while pressing herself against Roderick in such a way that the veracity of the statement requires no verification.
"Okay, everyone, it's time," calls Natasha. She stands next to a covered easel on which there is a large portrait-style canvas that appears to be about three feet wide and four feet wide. Everyone gathers around, and with appropriate drama, Natasha lifts the cover.
Nothing is said for at least fifteen seconds. Natasha looks from face to face, searching for a response.
Roderick breaks the silence. "Uh, when did you decide to go abstract?"
Natasha scowls. "It's not at all abstract, it's purely representational."
Molly reddens slightly. "Oh, I think I know what it is." She reddens some more.
Roderick looks at the painting again. "Oh, right. Yes, I see. Very realistic. Almost...."
"Anatomical." Anna finishes his sentence.
More silence.
"So, um, what do you think you will name it?" wonders Roderick.
Natasha looks at the painting, then back to Roderick. "I'm not sure. I was thinking Molly's Vagina, but that sounds too clinical. What do you think?"
Roderick ponders. "Quim sounds nicer."
"Ladyparts" says Megan, perkily.
"Fica" says Anna.
Molly is puzzled. "I don't understand. How did you get the detail? I've never posed for you like that."
Natasha ruffles through a photo album and produces an image of Molly standing, nude, in the manner of Venus. On the image, a little rectangle is marked at a strategic location. On the next page, Natasha shows them the little rectangle massively enlarged.
Molly is still confused. "But look at it! It's so blurry you can't make anything out."
Natasha shrugs. "Silly. I just used a mirror on myself to fill in the details."
Later that evening, Roderick snuggles up to Molly. Ever positive, he points out the absence of sex toys in Natasha's painting.
