The time has come and I am quivering in abject fear,
because The Mission is: Locate and Purchase New Brassieres.
My nerves are shot, but I will face this task, and MUST NOT FAIL
to find accommodation suitable for humpback whales.

In scoping out support to keep these tweeters at attention,
the aisle containing that looks like a mini-tent convention.
And so I slowly creep along, in stealth, dressed incognito,
assessing - through dark glasses - what may suit a pair of pillows.

As luck would have it though, I spot a man at 2 o'clock,
who's cute, but possibly a perve...I slip behind the socks,
to spy between the anklets - is he fondling those undies??
Which prompts the thought that, maybe, he's descended from Ted Bundy...

He leaves at last, so I leap out and snatch a few contenders,
dashing off to try them on, while cursing my fair gender,
and smash right into “Ted”, who's lurking near my destination,
leering lewdly at my bongos, adding fear to aggravation.

I whop him in the chops with my large stash of boulder holders,
and hear a CRACK - he's dribbling and reaching for my shoulders.
I kick, I punch, I scratch and scream - would he just LET ME BE!
“The Mission must not fail - could you please STOP DISTRACTING ME??”

The ruckus brings two burly men in uniforms with batons;
“Release her, Sir, or we will strike you - are you all right, Madam?”
“Ted” is mumbling something that's a mix of spits and garbles;
“thehimmemirth!” - they roll their eyes like he's lost all his marbles.

“I'M FINE!” I squeak, and streak away from any more diversion
from what will be the worst of this most torturous excursion.
I'd rather wrestle “Ted” than wrangle straps and hooks and clips.
DAMNED UNDERWIRES - who dreamed them up? I'll thread 'em through their lips!!

Now battered, bruised and bleeding, with the last bra back to front,
and nipples nicked from "stepping in" (among some other stunts)
the Mission has secured only THREE from TWENTY-FOUR!
The other twenty-one lay strewn across the change room floor.

On heading back to base upon completion of The Mission,
I'll heft the humpbacks in to their brand new accommodation.
But if they take to leaping out or spouting off instead,
one will wear my cocktail and the other...hello, Ted...