We three dowagers had a conference call last night to exchange information (gossip), talk about other members of society (gossip), and praise each other for piety, manners, and maintenance of good standards (lies).
There has been a Wanted sign out for Mamie since last week. While I was temporarily distracted by big birds on the wall, she stole my premium drink tickets (about ten, that I recall). It was telling that she didn't deny it, but actually crowed about her coup.

There was also some concern about The Baroness Seitzinger's taste again. We couldn't agree on what appalled us more: The gaudy paint job on the Rolls, the pig hood ornament, or that she was dressed as if she was at Target looking for a date with a utility trucker.
So before we slipped into the morass of war, I pulled a Neville Chamberlain and got us all to agree to "Peace in our time"....or at least until Countess Bedelia leaves. The impending threat she poses to our positions must unite us as her well-known attempts to entice, cajole, and bribe South Beach society must be addressed. It's not that we fear her, but we can't be biting each other on the back while she swoops in with her winged monkeys and takes over this gullible town.