"We'll be right back..." the TV announcer says. Commercial break.
Myra stands up and yawns, then heads down the hall.
"Just yell for me if I'm not done yet," she tells the others.
Part of Cindy wants to scream happily at the sight of Myra heading down the hall: Myra, of all four girls here, could arguably need "Breast(+)" the most.
At 6'2", she had much appeal for any "leg guy," and in general, was quite the looker. But anybody who'd glance at her chest... they'd move right along. While drunk, she'd either argue that she was a B-cup, or she'd confess to having "titties too tiny for an A-cup." It depended on her mood. And the booze. And the audience.
But that could all change real quick, Cindy realized. She smiled for Myra. Maybe life could be fair. At least for a while.
"Show's back on, Myra!"
"Okay! Right there!" a muffled cry came.
An attractive new male character came on the screen, and the soap opera temporarily took Cindy's mind off of Myra's new assets, a nice gift she'd just given.
"Whoah-uh! Who's the hunk!" Myra remarked at the television, and Cindy's distraction.
Cindy turned her head towards Myra, "His name's---"
Then she stopped....