PARIS — Yesterday, seated before a roaring fire in a spacious hotel room, local woman Julie Chambers, slowly and ever so tenderly, undressed a bag of all dressed chips as though for the first time.
Sources report that when the chips appeared behind her as if out of nowhere she, sensing their presence, wordlessly patted the space beside her on the velvet love seat.
The chips were silent as she gently caressed the seam of their bag, playfully running her hand along the crease until, at last, it came open. Their glorious forms, other reports suggest, were still maddeningly all-dressed.
“Lay’s,” she whispered, not needing to say more.
The firelight glinted off their bag as she lifted them effortlessly into her arms and carried them to the bed, where she tipped a tiny portion of them into her skilled, sinewy hands.
Sources say she then lifted her palm above her face, eyes burning with anticipation. The chips, ruffled for her pleasure, fell to her first slowly, then faster, then in a tumbling, frantic motion until, unable to restrain her passion any longer, she swept the bag up above her and tilted them into her until the very last was dressed no longer.
As she fell back onto the bed, panting and exhausted with ecstasy, she could still feel the potent, throbbing force of the chips within her.
At press time, unbeknownst to her, Chambers’ salad watched from the ante-room, fully dressed, silent, and enraged.
