PART Three: Being Locked in a Trunk Ain't Half Bad

Of course, being the budding sleuth that she was, Nancy coped remarkably well with her confinement. When the car finally slowed to a halt the speed bumps were no longer a problem, and she found the carpet's polyvinyl blend surprisingly comfortable for a synthetic fabric. When several days had passed, it occurred to Nancy that she wasn't to be released from the trunk.

"So that's their game," she thought. "They've left me for dead in this god-forsaken compact car!" Still she was undaunted. Not that she was confident about her situation, you understand, but more because she was unsure how to go about being daunted in the first place.

But she hadn't attended Madame Pierre's Finishing School for nothing. There she had learned all the skills a young lady of means might require, from ordering caviar in eight different languages, to arranging the seating of a 24 person banquet so that all guests are seated on the hostess's best side, to (yep, you guessed it) dealing with any possible abduction attempts.

With these skills in hand, she set about ensuring her survival in the trunk of the car. With her extensive knowledge of Feng Shui, she arranged the contents of the trunk for the best possible flow of Qi. She found that rusty sections of the trunk lid provided a perfect surface for keeping her nails attractively filed and buffed.

She concocted a nourishing stew from the leather of her shoes, with fiber from the mystery envelopes and iron supplements scraped from rusty patches. With occasional slices of fraggle thrown in for variety, she found that a few tablespoons of this brew sustained her for weeks, while maintaining her hourglass figure.

Next, using her exquisite fashion sense she extrapolated what Versace's fall line might be like and with the stitching of Bobo Fraggle's face she altered her clothing accordingly. Using her G-string and shoe soles to fasion a pair of lavender espadrilles, The vivacious detective made a fetching picture.

Between these tasks Nancy was left to pontificate upon her situation. Who was that mysterious bunny-masked man? Was her abduction somehow related to the mysterious missing traction in her home? What was to be done with her deceitful beau? Would her red slingbacked stilletto heeled pumps still be on sale when she got out? Would they even be in style?

After five minutes, her capacity for pondering reached its threshold, and she turned to the task of entertaining herself. She began by singing the theme to Dukes of Hazard, but try as she might, she could never remember what came after 'beats all you ever saw, been in trouble with the law since the day they was born'. So she turned to row, row, row your boat instead.

And in that fashion, Nancy passed the next several months. Then one day, she was awakened by a scratching against the car. In the next instant her vision was flooded with beams of sunlight and wafting lavender flowers...

Is Nancy being rescued? Is she dreaming? Did she take the brown acid?
Stay tuned; only time will tell.

On to Part Four of Our Story!