ransvestia

Resisting the temptation to make what promised to be the vilest pun in the world, I shrugged. “No doubt at all, with your expert help. But I don't think so. I never could see much sense in going about in drag.”

"You've never tried it," sniffed Wendell.

"Oh, yes I have, but I don't particularly enjoy — you tricked me!” I suddenly realized with chagrin.

"Aha," chortled Wendell in glee, “it comes out! It's settled then now you hurry up and come over to my place and we'll get you all decked out."

"Forget it," I said. "I'm not interested."

"But think how mad it will make your step-mother not to mention those two visions of beauty" he shuddered, “— your step-sisters.”

"Yeah, I bet it would at that," I admitted. “If for no other reason, I ought to do it.”

"Well, come on then. Good heavens, the Ball starts in less than an hour, and if we work very fast, you might make the second half — just in time for the Grand March."

"I still don't want to,” I said. “I mean, what's the percentage? I can make my step-mother mad without going to all that trouble and with- out making a food of myself.”

"Would you believe me if I told you something? That if you go to the Ball tonight, your whole life will be changed? I swear that to you He was so serious it was comical.

"What are you talking about?**

"I can't say it exactly, but it is very important you go. To you."

"I hate mysteries. I suppose you're suggesting that I go—oh, yeah I remember the rest of the story and the Prince falls in love with

me, and all that jazz. And then what am I supposed to do?”

can't tell you anything

He shook his head. "Please believe me. I more. You know I wouldn't do anything bad to you — why, I feel like

a...