The last time we saw Cyril, he was talking on the phone to a mysterious someone. It wasn't completely clear what Cyril was up to, but we felt that it was no good.
Now Cyril sat on the sofa in Stella's lovely townhouse. Upstairs the water was running; Stella was showering and getting ready for a night out on the town with her fiance. Cyril carefully waited until he heard the shower curtain being drawn shut, then softly rose and stealthily tiptoed into the dining room. This was where the object of his desire was; this was the jackpot.
Did he sneak stealthily to the wall, move a picture aside and with sensitive fingertips, dial the combination safe to get the cash and jewelry stuffed inside? No.
Did he grab the small framed Monet landscape that hung on the other wall? Nope.
Cyril knelt next to the sideboard and opened the doors. A sigh escaped him as he ran his hands over what he had found...dozens and dozens of wood mounted rubber stamps. He'd been affecting ignorance of rubber stamping ever since he had discovered that Stella had the biggest "stash" of rubber he had ever seen. Cyril was a stampaholic. He'd do anything to get his hands on all this rubber, even marry Stella! Now he examined his find; nearly every manufacturer was represented in Stella's stash, but the greater majority of the stamps were rare retired Stampin' Up! sets. Cyril knew that if he could only get all this for his own, his troubles were over. He could sell off the retired sets on that online auction site and be able to buy even more rubber stamps; enough to last him the rest of his life. Of course, it would be hard to part with all of this lovely rubber; maybe he'd keep just one for himself. But which should it be? Definitely Decorative Hydrangeas? Holiday Hannah? Oh, it was agony trying to choose!
A cough behind him startled him. It was Mrs. Rumplemuch, Stella's cleaning lady. She stared at him with suspicious eyes, "What you lookin' for?" she asked.
"Ah, um, well, I was just thinking that Stella kept her vases in here and since I was thinking I'd get her some flowers from the corner while she was getting ready for our date, I wanted to be sure that there was a vase ready!" Cyril lied.
"Vases are kept in the pantry...I'll get one." Mrs. Rumplemuch stumped down the hall to the kitchen. Cyril closed the doors of the sideboard, rubbing his hands down his trousers in an effort to get the feeling of that wonderful rubber off his hands.
Did Mrs. Rumplemuch believe Cyril? Or will she report Cyril's odd behavior to Stella, shattering her dreams? Will Cyril take steps to silence Mrs. Rumplemuch's wagging tongue? Or will he give up on his dream to own Stella's rubber stash? Only time will tell this jagged tale on.....the Tearing Edge!