Though it is rumored that a much more racy and risqué version of the final scenes showing Kitty Kelly stripped of her dress, is also said to exist, it must remain the Holy Grail of it’s aficionados. So, it is at least hoped that this never before seen draft and photos from the tea party and Spanky’s recital in the opening scenes, will satisfy the film’s many fans to a degree.
Sadly, the name of the writer has been lost to the mists of time. We only know that this person was fired and blacklisted for violating the film industry’s obscenity laws which were in place at the time. Hopefully, we have evolved. So, without further delay, in one act with two scenes:
THE TEA PARTY - (scene 1)
To say that Spanky’s mom was brimming with pride and confidence would be an understatement. All the preparations for the upcoming tea party were falling nicely into place. And this was not just a casual assembly with some of the neighbors. But rather, she had invited certain of the local society ladies over today for tea and enlightening conversation. This would be a good opportunity for her to get a toe-hold into polite society. To mingle with quality people. Yes, she and Spanky would dazzle them with their charm and refinement.
And unbeknownst to the guests, they would also be treated to a performance by her son, Spanky, who would be reciting Longfellow’s “The Village Blacksmith.” She wanted to make him a great actor in the mold of Barrymore and Gable. And her hard work would make it happen. Though he didn’t know it yet, Spanky had been entered into the upcoming talent contest at the Ritz. First prize: 10 dollars. Today would be a nifty chance for him to practice before the real show. To show off his mother’s first-rate work. A perfect afternoon.
“Just aces!” She thought.
True, the performance was part of her faultless plans to promote her own chances to move into sophisticated society, but she was also keen to use it as an opportunity to show up that conceited snob, Daphne Pemberton and perhaps intimidate with Spanky’s talent.
Daphne was her arch rival on the next rung up the social ladder and would be accompanied by her mother, Evelyn Culpepper, who was constantly scheming to circulate her daughter amongst the upper crust of society. Both she and Daphne would be competing to impress these fine ladies by their culture and class. Spanky’s mom had no difficulty in persuading Daphne and Evelyn to attend since her pampered and spoiled son, Nigel, would be performing at the upcoming talent show as well. She knew that they would not miss the opportunity to size up the competition and each other. But, more importantly, the two mothers would have the chance to escalate their rivalry for acceptance into genteel and polished society.
“This will be a shoe-in for Spanky as Nigel is a laughing stock to boot.” She mused recalling the story Spanky had told her of the time when Nigel had his too tight, preppy short pants ripped off in front of a girl he was trying to impress, leaving him to run home in his sensible white underpants, screaming like the sissy he was.
“Yes, time to put that self-centered, conceited, pompous Daphne and that manipulative mother of hers in their places. Right in front of the very ladies who know culture and class when they see it.” She thought to herself.
The guests arrived promptly and were ushered into the living room. After a round of obligatory pecks on proffered cheeks, tea and delicacies were enjoyed while pleasantries were exchanged and gossip dispersed.
“Oh my, Mrs Crutchly, we do look lovely today.” Cooed Evelyn Culpepper, silently deriding the heavyset woman. Her own rather corpulent figure similarly stuffed tightly into her ill fitting clothing.
“Why thank you, darling. How nice of you” she replied. Totally flattered.
“Has this woman no self-respect? She doesn’t even try to conceal her loathsome figure.” Sneered Evelyn to herself.
Spanky’s mom edged closer to Daphne Pemberton in order to take the measure of her rival as she walked around, silently evaluating her house.
“I hope you’ll enjoy yourself here today, Mrs Pemberton.”
“Oh, perhaps. This place reminds me of our summer home up in lake district. Quaint but charming. Oh you must come and visit some time, dear.” she said rather remotely while scrutinizing the room. Making sure that everyone around heard her snide remark.
“And what are these rather large over-sized arm chairs?” inquired Daphne.
“They are the latest from Sears & Roebuck. Massaging chairs! I ordered them from their catalog.” she voiced exultantly.
“Oh. I see. How pedestrian.” Daphne said dryly.
“Do try one out, Mrs. Pemberton. Brand new technology. Runs on an electric motor. Absolutely quiet. I’ll turn it on for you.”
“Very well, dear. If you insist.” she replied.
Daphne slowly and gracefully strolled past the conclave of society ladies knowing full that they’d be judging everything that she and her rival did. Making sure that they could see her conservative and respectable gray, two-piece button down jacket, matching calve length skirt and gloves that she had chosen. She almost giggled to herself looking at Spanky’s mother in what appeared to her to be a maid’s uniform.
“I see that you were able to find a lovely ensemble at the Five & Dime. Very nice, dear.” Quipped Daphne. Her pronouncement dripping with sarcasm as Evelyn Culpepper chuckled along at her daughter’s rapier like wit.
Spanky’s mom didn’t take the bait. Trying to remain the perfect hostess. Instead, she activated the massaging armchair as Daphne sat down in a most tasteful manner. A manner befitting someone of her caliber and crossed her legs in a very lady-like, respectful fashion, as she pulled her skirt hem over her knees. Pure performance.
At this point, Spanky’s mom politely interrupted the gathering with her big announcement that he would be entertaining them with a recital and as an additional surprise, he had also been entered into the talent show. After exchanging glances and a round of polite applause, Spanky was introduced by his mother.
“I know that you will find his recital a special treat and that you will all enjoy it very much. Thank you.”
“Under the spreading chestnut trees…” Spanky droned on. And on. And on.
At the same time, Daphne began to fidget in the massage chair. Thinking that she was being impolite, a few of the ladies glanced icily over in her direction. She tried to control her twitching. But something was wrong with the armchair. The distraction caused Spanky to stumble a bit but was saved by a few timely prompts from mother..
Spanky finished his lines to a round of courteous applause as his mother escorted him out of the room.
“Wasn’t that just wonderful everyone? Now, run along dear and keep practicing your lines. Mother needs to see to her guests.”
“Yes, mother.” Groaned Spanky.
His grandmother could only roll her eyes with him as he passed by.
“I’m glad that’s over.” he said.
“I know dear.” Wishing that her daughter would just stop being so pushy and let her son have some fun. Leave this acting nonsense to someone else.
THE TEA PARTY - (scene 2)
The women then resumed their casual chit-chat. That is until they were interrupted again by a wriggling Daphne.
“Mrs. Pemberton. If you PLEASE.”
The tug on the back of her skirt was unmistakable. Part of it had slid between the seat cushion and the chair back when she sat down. Right into the lower portion of the chair housing the electric motor. Now it was snagged. Being pulled and tugged by the mechanics of the motor and metal massaging cams.
Her fussing became more noticeable. Her face pained. The skirt hem momentarily began ridding up over her knees past mid thigh. Exposing a garter strap and the top of her stocking consequently revealing quite a lovely bit of thigh. Quickly, she yanked the hem back down and regained her poise.
“RIP RIIIP!”
This time she could hear the tearing as the device hooked more of her skirt. Daphne’s face became contorted as she struggled to hold her skirt in place. She leaned sideways in the chair to gain some leverage, throwing her leg sideways over the arm. More of her thighs and garter came into view along with a glimpse of reddish, dark fabric between her upper thighs as she flung out her leg. Her face winced.
“Young lady compose yourself, please.” said an annoyed Mrs. Gibson.
Daphne tried to do just that. She sat bolt upright as if nothing had happened. Then:
“SHRIIIP”
“EEP.
“Shhhhh!”
“Oh God. My skirt. It’s being pulled off!” She imagined to herself, in a fit of alarm as she felt the firm yank on the back of the skirt fabric.
“RIP.”
The tearing sound told her that more material was being pulled apart and into the mechanism. She didn’t know how to stop it and was too vain to ask for help. In any event, she was too busy trying keep her clothes on.
“I can’t let this happen. Not in front of everyone. God, my mother!” she thought.
Daphne’s contortions became more pronounced. Her face cringing with the efforts to control what was becoming a cheap strip-tease show. She lunged left and right in a feeble attempt to free herself. Her milky white thighs, stockings and garter straps fully revealed with each exertion.
“Pull yourself together, Mrs. Pemberton. What on earth is wrong with you? You are embarrassing everyone.” Chimed in Mrs. Preston.
Spanky’s mom was silently enjoying her rivals censoring at the hands of the blue bloods.
“An added bonus for the day!” She mused.
Far from helping, Daphne’s efforts were becoming counterproductive. All of her squirming about forced the lower back edge of her dress jacket to slide into the maws of the infernal machine. She heard a slight ripping sound as the jacket hooked and tore.
Flailing, twisting, wriggling. Her grimacing face turned into pure dread as her public embarrassment continued.
“RIIIP”
Her jacket drew tighter, straining the buttons in the front. Her face agonized. She was in trouble and knew it.
“No, no, NO!” She croaked.
A little too loudly this time. ALL eyes turned her way. The venerable guests shot daggers at her. Daphne’s clothes were coming apart.
“SHRIIIIP!”
“Daphne! I order you to stop this right now! You’re making a spectacle of yourself!” Commanded her imperious mother.
The skirt hem was ripped and pulled up nearly to her undergarments. To better feel the scope of damage, Daphne bit the end of each glove to pull them off while the other tried to hold on to her clothes. She felt the tearing of her jacket top starting to work its way up her back. She had to act now. Quickly. Before she was stripped by this contraption. Her face was showing panic. There was no other choice.
With that, Daphne lunged forward to a standing position, trying to finally free herself.
“RRRIIIIIIIIIPP!!”
Half dressed, Daphne just stood there, open mouthed, as she surveyed the damage.
She retrieved the shredded jacket top and held it in her hand like an old rag. Then threw the offending garment off to the side. A blank look crossing her face. She was clad now only in her ripped and mangled skirt with the missing gray jacket top revealing the upper portion of a full length white slip. A bit of a dark red brassier peeked out above her slip for all to see. The gasps from the distinguished ladies were loud and clear.
“Are some sort of strumpet, Mrs. Pemberton? I demand that you stop this disgraceful behavior immediately!”
Daphne could only muster a look of incomprehension and shock as she quickly crossed her arms over her bosom to shield it from the gawking women.
But it wasn’t the gasps of the grand dames which broke her revelry, but rather the steady pull on the long, tattered ribbons of her skirt trailing behind her that got her attention. Still caught in the armchair’s motor, the skirt was still slowly being pulled off of Daphne as the side seam began to split open. Looking down at it, she now feared the worst.
“Oh please, NO!” Speaking directly to the growing tear.
“RIIIP”
“EEEKK!”
“RRIIIP!”
Daphne became suddenly aware that she was about to be disrobed even further and clasped the waistband as firmly as she could, attempting to keep her clothing and dignity in place.
A fruitless gesture. As the skirt was being steadily pulled down, more of her white slip came into view. Her countenance was now one of horror. She turned away.
“AAAHHH! Screamed Daphne. Not even trying to be subtle anymore.
“My clothes are coming off! Mother! Help!”
With her skirt now down around her calves, Daphne reached down in one last ditch attempt to hoist her skirt back up before it was gone. She managed to do so, but only by losing her balance and falling heavily backwards into the armchair and in the process, forcing the skirt fabric once more back into the apparatus.
“RRIIIIPP!”
No amount of writhing or tugging would help her now. She kicked off her heels for better traction. Her milky white thighs and maroon, open girdle on full display.
Straining to hold on to her skirt, she slid out out of the chair and onto the floor, fighting to keep her some piece of her dress. Daphne’s gyrations took on the look of desperation. Her choice of lingerie for today, was abundantly clear for all to see now. Nicely shaped, pale white thighs disappearing into her undergarments.
But, somehow she managed to sit back down just as the remains of her skirt ripped apart and disappeared into the machinery below.
“SHRRIIIP!”
“My God woman! Have you no shame! I have never seen such a grotesque display in all my life such as this!” Came the shocked response as the society ladies looked on, totally flabbergasted.
Spanky’s mom was trying to hide her glee. She knew that she should go over to help, but she was savoring the moment as this pushy, conceited woman was being laughably stripped to her underwear.
“How humiliating. Having your dress ripped off in front of everyone!” As she mulled over an idea. She leaned over to her mother and whispered: “Here’s where we start the show!” And snickered to herself as she went over to “assist” the dis-dressed Daphne.
Her intervention went only so far as to grab a piece of Daphne’s slip and girdle in order to make sure that it was fed down into the gears beneath her. Then, she stood back to enjoy her handiwork. It didn’t take long. And the flimsy white slip went first.
“RIIIIP!
“AAAHHH! My clothes! My slip! Oh God, no. Please don’t let this happen!”
Daphne tried to react as she felt the thin spaghetti straps on her slip break and the top portion slide down her chest, uncovering a matching, maroon, strapless brassiere. First one cup then the other came shockingly into view. Contrasting nicely with her pasty white skin. The remains of her slip kept slithering down her midriff.
Daphne twisted and thrashed about. Her flimsy girdle was beginning to come off too, snatching the cheap stockings along with it. Her face was now tortured in all manner by the duel. The end was never in doubt and she was left panting in only her brassier and sheer black panties as the tattered slip and girdle vanished into the maw of the armchair.
“AAHHHH!! EEEEE!! Mother! Everyone can see my underthings!” Bawled Daphne.
Aghast, Daphne’s mother rose to help. She was going to end this mortifying disaster once and for all. Evelyn reached down to yank her embarrassing daughter out of this ungodly contraption. But as she reached for Daphne’s arm and shoulder to try and jerk her wayward daughter upwards, Evelyn stumbled forward and then backwards with only Daphne’s brassier in her hands. Both women shrieked simultaneously at what just happened.
“AAAHHHH!” Screamed Evelyn as she looked at her daughter’s brassier in her hands. Her mouth opened as wide as her eyes as she looked back at the nearly naked Daphne and then to the posh matriarchs, frozen now in disbelief.
“EEEEEKKKK!” Squealed Daphne as she sank back into the chair and stared down at her now exposed and very naked breasts.
"Oh Lord.” Where the last words out of Evelyn’s mouth before she fainted straight away.
Spanky’s grandmother tried to catch the distraught women as she collapsed...
“SSSSHRRRIIIIIPP!”
...and instead, she merely wrenched the dress off of Evelyn’s plump body as she fell onto a nearby couch. Heads turned to gape in horror. For there she was, ludicrously splayed out wearing only her dreadful looking underwear. Arms flung back over her head. The fatty bulge of her belly and hefty thighs, barely contained by her girdle. Her breasts aimed menacingly at the matrons, totally astonished by the newest outrage.
My God, Mrs. Culpepper, you too? Have you NO shame at all? Cover yourself my dear woman! At once!” Barked Mrs. Baily. Evelyn’s head merely lolled about as she mumbled something incomprehensibly as she tried to come to.
“EEEPPP!” Squeaked Daphne as the final act began to unfold.
Her filmy, black panties were finally being torn off as she fought to keep the last shred of clothing and decency in place. She kicked and flailed, flashing her delectably fleshy thighs about.
The cheeks of her impressive bottom showing now and again. She sensed the cool air and seat cushion texture on her buttocks.
“NO, no, no, nooooooo!” She pleaded.
Spanky’s mom had to hide her face in her hands to keep from laughing. The other women could only watch as Daphne pulled one way and the machinery the other.
“RRIIIP
“My panties!!!!”
That final tear catapulted Daphne unceremoniously to the floor. She began to sit up and assess the catastrophe. The soft folds of her slightly flabby belly heaving in and out with each mortified breath. A hint of the darkened entrance to the Mount of Venus just nestled just below. Her smallish, yet perky breasts swaying gently.
Spanky’s mom and grandmother began pulling what was left of Daphne’s clothes out of the chair once it stopped and dropped them in front of a dismayed Daphne. She looked them and threw her arms out in supplication. Then brought her hands to her face and back to her hips. Back and forth. Then outwards again. They said what her mouth could not: Complete and utter disbelief. Her composure was gone.
“AAAAhhh! Nooooo!” My clothes! I’m naked! This can’t be happening to me!” Mother!” Wailed a disgraced and embarrassed Daphne as she looked at the remains of her ripped clothing lying in front of her. Mesmerized by the site, she absentmindedly began to cover her lady parts with her hands.
The piercing laments of her daughter finally brought Evelyn to her senses. But, while everyone was still focused on poor Daphne, she began crawling away on all fours down the hallway rug, trying to escape the fiasco. Her meaty rump and chunky thighs lumbering towards the door and her car parked outside. Spanky’s grandmother caught site of her. Now provoked by the thought of Evelyn trying to flee unseen without removing her vain and self-centered daughter from the premises, grandma started after her and caught up to Evelyn somewhere outside. Heads turned. They could hear but no one dared to look.
“SMAAAAK!”
“OOWW”!
“WHACK!”
OWWWCH!”
“Noooo! Don’t you dare! I’m warning you!”
“AAAHHHH! NO! AAHHHH! UUHHHH!” The last sounding more like grunting than anything else.
With a look of satisfaction on her face, Grandma returned, nonchalantly shoving clumps of white material in her various dress pockets.
Finally grasping the totality of her humiliation, a devastated Daphne sat back on her haunches. Rocking back and forth. A look of pleading stamped on her face. Having momentarily forgotten her nudity, she quickly recovered and bent over in a fetal position in an inadequate effort to conceal her nakedness. The smugness and haughtiness on her face where erased, replaced by chagrin and chastisement as she looked over to the aristocratic women for pity. But, it was over. She and her mother had knocked from their lofty perches in one fell swoop.
Daphne sat back on her haunches with one last pleading look on her face. But the ladies made their judgment quite clear with their disparaging and dismissive commentary as they paraded by.
“Ladies!” Came the announcement from Mrs. Claydon, “I for one have had quite enough of this grotesque and vulgar display!” She huffed.
“Let us be off, I say!”
“Someone needs to take a wooden spoon to that harlot!”
“Here, Here.”
“Good day, Madam!”
“The very idea of this young woman putting her private life on display is utterly outrageous!”
In righteous indignation, they marched past a cowering Daphne, as they quickly but politely thanked Spanky’s mother for the “entertaining” afternoon.
And with that, Daphne stood up and turned to reach for a chair cushion to cover her nakedness and the indecency of the moment while she gathered the scraps of her garments. Doing so merely presented her splendid, jiggling derriere to the group, sending one last shock wave through the room.
Time to beat a hasty retreat.
Later that evening, Spanky asked his mom if she thought that he would win the talent show prize.
“Why dear, it’s in the bag!”