The Story of the Three Lairs

Once upon a time, there were Three Lairs. Papa Lair, Mama Lair, and Money Lair. After returning home from a fundraiser, and upon entering their new house in New York, they saw something was not proper. Papa Lair remarked, “Someone’s been sitting in my chair. Mama Lair said, “Someone’s been sitting in my chair…who was it, Papa Lair? She must’ve been fat because my chair is all broken. Money Lair rushed to the side of Mama Lair and waved a fistful of cash at Mama Lair saying, “It’s okay. We’ll buy you all the chairs you want.” Mama Lair, grabbing the money from Money Lair and stuffing it in her bosom, began walking towards the kitchen.

As the Three Lairs stumbled into the kitchen, Papa Lair, looking disturbed exclaimed, “Somebody ate my Big Mac, and all my damned fries, and my apple pie, and drank all my shake.” Mama Lair, waddling in to see the mess, bellowed, “and she didn’t even clean up her mess. It was probably one of your interns, Papa Lair.” Seeing the possible problems unfolding, Money Lair rushed to Mama Lair’s side again, with another fistful of cash and remarked, “No problem. Here’s enough money to buy you both a franchise, and you can have all the Big Macs you want”. Money Lair walks away slowly, anticipating what else could go wrong tonight.

Papa Lair decides that his belly is full and that he must take a nap. So, excusing himself, he heads towards the bedroom to his king-sized bed. As he lies down, he notices that the covers are rumpled and his pillows are pulled from beneath the covers. Shouting, Papa Lair yells, “Hey Money Lair, somebody’s been sleeping in my bed. I can still smell her perfume. And there’s a blue dress lying on the floor.” Mama Lair takes off like a jet with its butt on fire, speeding into her bedroom, noticing that her bed, as well is rumpled. She hollers to Papa Lair, “the bitch has been in my bed too. I see her line of handbags scattered about. And here’s the book you bought for her too. And looks like she left you a new tie.” Sensing that real trouble was brewing, Money Lair rushed into the bedroom, with two fistfuls of cash and exclaimed, “Here, Mama Lair. Take this money and buy yourself a new house, away from all this confusion.”

Mama Lair stuffs the cash in her bosom and bolts for the door, without telling anyone goodbye. At that instant, Papa Lair comes running in, grabs Money Lair by the hand, smiles that goofy-looking smile he is so famous for, and exclaims: “Thanks, Money Lair. Now that she’s got a place all to herself, I can bring back that pretty little “Lippilocks” and have my way for a while. By the way, can I do anything for you in return?”

Money Lair replies, “Yeah, there’s a job opening I would be interested in over at the DNC if you think you could swing it.” Papa Lair, smiling still, pulls out a couple of Cuban cigars, hands one to Money Lair as they light up, and proclaims: “Not a problem, Money Lair. I think I could swing that. Raising his cigar to Money Lair, as in a toast, says: “to Ms. Lippilocks. Life is good!”