10 60 Sandy Rose

Your name was Kazimir Svobodnik, and you were on the westbound train in Munich with your lover and fellow spy, the ravishing but deadly Liesl Eberstark. Leisl had just emerged from deep cover as a double-agent with a splinter group of former KGB who had entered into a dangerous game as arms traders. Liesl had stolen blueprints for a heavily-guarded missile technology and a kilo of weapons-grade isotopes, which she now kept inside her makeup case under her seat.

Suddenly, shots were fired in the car behind yours. Without looking back, you and Leisl lunged from your seats and ran for the next car, pulling your weapons from inside your dress jackets.

As you burst through the doors to the next car, a startled woman screamed, and then began to panic when she saw the weapons you both held. Having no time to quiet the innocent, Leisl gracefully shot the woman and her two companions in the forehead, silencing them and leaving the two of you alone in the train car.

Croutched behind the door listening for your pursuers, you and Leisl locked eyes. You'd been here before, and she was a powerful ally. Moments like these made you love her ever more powerfully. You needed her flesh, right then and there, and she mocked you with her eyes when she spied your erection.

"Oh, darling" she whispered. And that was all. She looked up to the window in the door as a sound came from the previous train car, and your eyes followed the direction of the sound, as well.

Suddenly you felt a mist in your face, and looked to see Leisl screwing the fake bottom back into her lipstick.

"I'll miss you, Kaz," she whispered.

At once, the horror of your situation was apparent. Leisl had obtained the banned Soviet memory-eradication spray, and had used it on you. She was going to keep the isotopes for herself. You had only seconds, and your consciousness was fading already. There was no time for your anger or betrayal.

"I love you, Leisl. For now," you muttered, and watched as she carelessly tipped the lipstick container off her fingertips and into your jacket pocket. She gave you a regretful look, stood, and ran through to the next car. You watched her, knowing that as your consciousness left you, so did your identity.

The next thing you knew, you were a homosexual computer programmer living in San Francisco.

That must be it. All other scenarios are too far-fetched.

Pink panties.

Sandy Rose lipstick.

I'm finally figuring out my friends.

If I remember, awhile back you were doing some "blue" drag, too, GoB.

I knew you were sketchy.

Oh god. Lipstick, panties? You really *ARE* a bear. :-P

I have a friend who often hides things in the pockets of those she loves when she is over visiting. It's always a small thing, but just meant to surprise them, and let them think of her. She wears the redest lipstick I have ever seen.. but perhaps you have a similar friend.

Or you loaned the jacket to some lipstick lesbian and she forgot her lipstick....

Hmm...well, I was going to try and come up with something, but it appears that Josh has exhausted all the possibilities. Bummer for me.