‘Why, that’s delightful hair you have this morning, Erin. Why, if someone were to give you perfect hair for pigtails, I’d say it would be about ...hat length…wouldn’t you agree?’ I suddenly felt breathless as the significance of Jack’s words struck me. Pigtails. My hair. Suddenly it was clear. Somehow, some way, Jack had done this to me. Well, he wasn’t going to get away with it. The dam inside me burst. ‘If you thinkI’m going to cater to your twisted little fetish, you’re insane, Jack,’ I said,. Bob Hope was always good at playing thehapless shmoe who gets dumped on by fate (like in those "Road To" movies-Bing Crosby leaving with the girl they'd both been vying for, clearlyhaving won her affection while Hope is left trapped in some degradingsituation, his expression showing he pretty much expected this...) andhere he is in fine form. There is something awkward and untrustworthyabout him; and with his built-in lascivious leer and the double entendresthat seem to spill unwittingly from. More

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