“Indeed, I shall swipe the next pair of pants to make its way near me,” said Niles Pantsstealer to his dog Rolf. “Yes, I shall remove pants from the next person I meet. I just stated that, hadn’t I?”
A woman with a rotund bottom and a thin waist waddled past Niles.
“Rather! I wouldn’t steal the pants off a lady!”
“But you said you would,” instigated Rolf, at least, that’s what Niles thought Rolf said in his head.
“B-b-b-but how uncharming it is of a Mississippi man in this manner…”
“Excuse me! Do you know how to get to Sherman’s drugstore?” the woman asked.
“Most assuredly,” Niles answered. “It’s two block south off of–”
He swiftly knocked her to the ground and took off her pants.
“Madam, do not make the pant-stealing unbearable for me. It’s hard enough to steal your pants when you’re accusing me of such unsavory things.”
“Nice bottom,” Rolf was heard to say, maybe.
Niles Pantsstealer took the pants from the young woman and ran off to the state line.
“It’s illegal to arrest a gentleman at the state line of Mississippi,” muttered Niles to Rolf.
“Sure it is, pal. You gonna eat those pants?”
“I simply steal pants, liberating them from bounders like that woman. Eh?” He dislodged a wallet from the pocket. “I stole her wallet too! Women seldom keep wallets in their pants! I’m a common criminal!”
Rolf said nothing.
“Don’t start agreeing with me now, chum! This is partially your fault, you and your goading over women’s trousers!”
Rolf sniffed himself. “It’s pants, not trousers. Remember the game,” Rolf angrily reminded. At least, Niles believed he angrily reminded him.
“Let’s return to our domicile, pal,” Niles squeaked. “We’ll figure out this wallet later.”
Two days later, the woman received her wallet in the mail with no return address. She took out her cards and money and threw the wallet out in case he did something.
Back into the wild traversed Niles Pantsstealer and Rolf. He spotted two men fishing and tanning their legs with their pants off.
“Too easy for my taste,” muttered Niles. “Like taking babies from a… no, I believe I started that wrong.”
“Do it,” Rolf might have told him. “No pants are too beneath you to steal.”
“Very well, Rolf.”
He simply ran behind the gentlemen and took their pants, running straight to the state line. “We made it, bud. We’re at the state line once more.”
A hot red automobile pulled up to the state line.
The two men who were fishing came out with clubs and began wailing on Niles, with Rolf sticking his tongue out and panting.
“Rolf, attack the bounders!”
“Speak to the cretins, Rolf! Speak!”
Rolf licked himself.
“So you’re the one who’s been stealing all the pants in town, is that it?”
“No! No, I’m just Niles Pantsstealer, pants aficionado! I collect pants, not steal them! I’m a cobbler, see?” He pulled out his card. “Niles Pantsstealer, Cobbler!”
“Well, I’m Judge Wily and this is Officer Gates! Be in jail today and court tomorrow, cobbler!”
“Charming,” muttered Niles as they dragged him away. “What about my dog?”
The pair talked among themselves. “That’s the Johnson dog, and she’s been missing for weeks. You stole a kid’s dog, creep?”
“But, but Rolf has been feeding me advice to steal pants! Dear boy, tell them you’re the mastermind behind these pants attacks! Tell them, old boy!”
“That’s the guy,” Rolf didn’t say. “Book ‘im.”
“You, you bounder and cad! No, it’s all a big misunderstanding! You simply must believe me, officer! Judge!”
“We’d be simple to believe you. Let’s go.”
The next day, Niles Pantsstealer was in chains and before the mercy of the court.
“Jury, the evidence has been placed before you. Have you reached a verdict?”
“We have, your honor. In the case of Niles Pantsstealer v. People wearing pants, we find the defendant… guilty.”
The court gasped and murmured.
“In the case of Niles Pantsstealer v. Patricia Johnson the dog’s owners, we find the defendant… guilty.”
The court gasped and murmured.
The judge banged his gavel. “Enough gasping, enough murmuring! Niles Pantsstealer, I sentence you to two years in prison! Next case!” BANG!
The judge and jury stood up, tearing their pants off.
“Ah, super glue. I still have accomplices out there, stealing the pants off of unsuspecting fools. It’s only a matter of time until they take everyone in Mississippi’s pants away!”
“But you didn’t steal the pants, you just destroyed them,” said a juror.
“True, but I did steal them away from you all. Now, I must figure out how to steal the pants off of inmates. And while I’m incarcerated, my accomplices shall swipe–”
“Hey, I’m Jeff Trouserswipe. I’m turning myself in to the police.”
“JEFF! Well, there goes my only accomplice.”
Niles Pantsstealer spent two years getting beaten up for stealing pants from inmates, and when he was freed, he tried to open a rental pants store in an attempt to get clean, but no bank would give him a loan. He died at 97, stealing pants until the day he died.