L ◙ Okay.. Story writers..Ready for something new??

Question:The first 6 people to post ONE phrase that they would like to have listed, will have their phrase listed. ( IT MUST BEGIN WITH THE LETTER ► " L " ◄)
So instead of me making up the phrases..YOU have a hand in it!!
Confused? You'll see... It's really quite simple.
After I see the first 6 phrases, I will LIST THEM IN THE ADDED DETAILS.THEN,GO BACK TO MY QUESTION , LOOK AT THE PHRASES AND WRITE A LITTLE STORY THAT MUST INCLUDE THOSE 6 PHRASES.
P.S. I WILL NOT ACCEPT BATHROOM HUMOR OR PROFANITY.
If you are not one of the first 6 responders, you are still invited to write a story and compete. ◄◄ Good luck and have FUN~~~~~~~~~

Answers:
"Live and let live, that's my motto." Detective Inspector Bruce daintily stepped over the blood-stained corpse which added a new and macabre display to Madame Tussad's Waxworks. This was the first murder to ever occur at the revered institution in it's 172 year history. "Apparently someone at this institution doesn't agree with me. P.C. Leadbetter, bring me the manager. I'll talk to him now." As his assistant hurried off the Inspector's eyes traveled over the motionless figures surrounding him. So many witnesses, yet none could speak. He turned as footsteps approached. A tall, elegant woman in black nodded to him coldly.

"I really don't see how Tussads can help you, Mr. Bruce. It's obviously a random crime. No one here knows this man. He simply paid his admission late last night and was found here in this condition when my assistant opened the business this morning."

"But there has been another recent crime here. I seem to recall you had some problem with an embezzeler?" The Inspector pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped through it. "Your name, madam?"

"Let's just let sleeping dogs lie, shall we? The money was returned anonymously. I am Ms. Boswell. Jasmine Boswell."

"And your assistant?" The pen paused expectantly and he glanced up at her.

"Larry, a young cousin of mine, who has been working part time during the summer.", she said.

"P.C.," Bruce glanced around for his own assistant and found him bent down rather clumsily, apparently tying his shoe. "Get this Larry person."

Jasmine Boswell's drawled rather sneeringly, "Little did anyone know, but whenever there was a call for help, Shoeshine Boy became, in real life, UNDERDOG! How can you people expect to solve a crime when you can't even reach down to tie your own shoes?" She ran her gaze over the rather portly shape of the departing constable.

"One of my best men, I assure you. And smart as a whip. Now as the crime scene team is here, if you will step back a bit ma'am?" Inspector Bruce had begun to dislike this obviously arrogant woman...

Larry was angry because he had to spend his last day of summer finishing his summer reading and math assignments. That, plus his part time job at the waxworks, left him little free time and now he'd had the shock of the morning's discovery. It was a relief to have such a sympathetic listener to relate his woes to as the kindly, plump policeman.

"Yes, Jasmine Boswell is a cousin on my mother's side. No, we in the family never met her husband. She married him in France and left him to return to England."

P.C. Leadbetter nodded reassuringly and led the young man back to the crime scene. He whispered a few words into the inspectors ear. Bruce nodded and moved over to Jasmine, who stood with a phone to her ear. "No, we'll be closed for a week now. I'll call you back." She glanced at the Inspector. "If you are quite done, Mr. Bruce, I have a lot on my plate at the moment. The press have begun calling and the security guards are having a time holding them back at the door."

"I wanted to ask about your husband." The museum managers face paled noticably.

"What can that have to do with this incident? My EX-husband is in France." She took a step back and glared at the Inspector.

"No, I believe your husband is lying on the floor about fifteen feet from here. Isn't that right? Constable Leadbetter happens to be the son of a tailor. While tying his shoes he made a careful examination of the vicim's cloths. The clothes of a Frenchman he tells me. He also tells me you have a French husband."

Jasmine Boswell's face changed from white to red then back to a paler white than ever. PC Leadbetter, standing nearby, felt quite sorry for her, despite the Underdog comment. "Lice are like ex-spouses; always turning up at the wrong time. Or rather ex-spouses are like lice, with a propensity for blood-sucking. It was your ex-husband who forced you to embezzle the money, wasn't it?" said Inspector Bruce.

Jasmine Boswell flipped open her phone and began dialing her lawyer.

Later that evening as Inspector Bruce signed a letter recommending promotion for Police Constable Leadbetter he sighed to himself and said, "Live by one rule and one rule alone, my boy. Be pleasant to your underlings because you may be working for them some day."
I don't really get it.. but here goes.

Larry was pissed because he had to spend his last day of summer finishing his summer reading and math assignments.
Live and let live
Ok, here goes...

LARRY WAS ANGRY because he had to spend his last day of summer finishing his summer reading and math assignments. He glanced out the window, the sun shone through the leaves, hints of yellow foreshadowing the coming Fall. The air was crisp yet warm.
"What a waste. I should have done this crap last week, when it was raining cats and dogs! Mom's right. She's always telling me LIVE BY one rule and one rule alone: do not put off until tomorrow, what can be done today! Who knew." he frowned. There was no way he could skip out, as his mother was downstairs watching Gunsmoke re-runs, and she'd never let him get past her.

He walked over to the window and opened it wide. "Hmmm, I wonder if I can climb down... only one way to find out!" He swung his leg over the sill, squirmed until he was hanging from the frame.
"Oh, geeze, I can't...hang...on." He stretched his left leg attempting to reach the nearest tree branch. "Got it!" He placed his foot securely, and lunged for a handhold. The branch gave way under his weight, he missed the grab and wound up hanging, upside down, his pants caught in the tree.
"Help, HELP!" he cried.

LITTLE DID ANYONE know, but whenever there was a call for help, Shoeshine Boy became, in real life, UNDERDOG! Shoeshine Boy was a nickname he'd given the nerd who lived down the street. He also called him bootlicker.
Underdog arrived, in cape and sweater bearing "U" on the front, and swooped Larry onto his back, bringing him safely down to the ground.
"It's you, huh, Larry." he growled. "I should have left you hanging."
"Underdog, thank you, but... how do you know who I am?"

Suddenly, the front door burst open, and mom stood on the stoop, hands on hips.
"LARRY! What are you DOING out here. Get upstairs right NOW and finish your assignments!"
Underdog turned and trotted off, feeling slightly sorry for Larry, and muttered "Let's just let sleeping dogs lie, shall we? He's gettin' his due."
Larry's mom grabbed him by the ear and led him through the door.
"Oh, MOM, why can't you just LIVE AND let live!?" he whined.
"When you're on your own, I will!" she answered.
Larry disappeared behing the bedroom door.

Mom resumed her seat on the couch, settling comfortably, anxious for the next Gunsmoke episode."Reprisal, oooh, this is the one where Matt kills that man in a gunfight...!"
DING DONG. The doorbell.
"Crimminy, who the heck can that be!" she was really riled. She did not like to be interrupted during Gunsmoke.
She opened the door abruptly...there stood her ex husband, looking sheepish.
"Uh, hi hon. Hate to bug ya but do you have any spare cash?" he asked.
"BUG ME? PULEEEZE.!" She turned and reached for her purse in the hall closet. "Bug me...ex-spouses are like lice, always turning up at the wrong time!"
She tossed him a few bucks and bid him goodbye, practically shutting the door in his face.
"Now, just maybe I'll have an hour's peace!" She returned to the couch and pressed "play."

[had to switch the order on that last entry, just fit better that way]...
Little did anyone know, but whenever there was a call for help, Shoeshine Boy became, in real life, UNDERDOG!
Lice are like ex-spouses; always turning up at the wrong time, and impossible to get out of your hair.
I live by one rule and one rule alone: _________.

=]

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