Bob heard the FedEx truck as it exited his driveway. The delivery man didn't even press the doorbell. He left the package outside the door.

"What? couldn't they wait?" Bob mumbled.

He walked to the door and opened it to find a padded envelope left on the stoop. It was a 19 by 14-inch brown envelope with padding and contents about three inches thick.

Bob reached down to pick it up. He turned it over to see the FedEx address label. It was indeed addressed to him. It was from his estranged wife.

"Great, she finally signed the divorce papers," Bob sighed. "It's about time."

Bob carried it into the house and put it on a convenient table. He didn't need to read it. He was now officially divorced. "It took her long enough."

Bob returned to what he was doing. Hhe didn't need to see the papers. He had already signed his version. Hers would look the same.

It only took a few minutes before curiosity got to him. He wanted to see the signed documents. He had been working for this for quite a while, he should at least see the papers.

Bob retrieved the envelope. He forced open the glued tab and reached inside. He felt plastic. He pulled out the contents and saw apparel inside sealed plastic baggies.

"What the f&*k? These look like women's clothes."

Bob wasn't sure if he wanted to do it, but he pried open one of the plastic baggies and pulled out the contents. The garment was made of a shiny silver material. It was a leotard with a tank top.

"What is this? That damn woman!"

He could tell what each item was without opening them. There were white tights and gold ballet slippers (they were point shoes). The final item he surmised was a pink tutu, although that was harder to discern without seeing it.

He removed each item from its packaging and shook his head. He decided to phone his soon-to-be Ex and tell her what he thought of her. But he didn't reach for the phone. Instead, he stood up and removed his shirt. He couldn't control his own movements. He threw his shirt on the floor and then unfastened his pants and pulled them down. He stepped out of them and then he stepped out of his underwear.

"What am I doing?"

He sat back down and then snaked his fingers through the white tights. He had never put on tights before, but he carefully pulled them up his legs as if he had been doing so for decades. He pulled them up his right foot to the top of his calf, then he did the same with the other foot. Next, he pulled them to his knees, making sure not to tear the material. he stood up again and then pulled them to his thighs and then over his penis and hips to his waist. He inspected the material to keep its consistency of color roughly the same all the way up his legs.

He grabbed the leotard next and pulled it up his legs, then up his torso. he slipped his hands through the arm holes and over his shoulders.

The tutu was next. It went up easy. he had to sit down to put the point shoes on his feet. He wrapped the ribbons around his ankles and tied them into a pretty bow at the back of his calf.

He walked gracefully on his toes to the door. He knew what he was going to do. He was going to go outside and dance his way down the sidewalk.

"NO, PLEASE! I'll give you anything you want!" he screamed into the empty air.

"Don't make me do this!"

On his tiptoes, as if he had been doing so for years, he opened both his front doors. He could see outside. It was a sunny day.

"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!"

Bob did a perfect pirouette and ended up facing away from the door.

"Thank you," he said with a sigh of relief.

A couple of seconds later, he was back on his toes doing chaines toward the door. He opened the front door and danced out down his walkway to the sidewalk. Then many pique turns down the block.

End.