From Mistaken Identity...
Stan was stunned to find himself confronted by six beautiful women. All were dressed the same. All wore a severely tight fitting, strapless, one piece shiny, black leather, skirted suits that extended to just above the to just above the knee. Their legs were encased n black nylon lace hose which extended down to shiny one inch pumps. From their bare shoulders extended long lovely arms encased up to the elbows in black leather gloves. They all stood around him, hands on hips, with grinning leers of confidence.
They were lovely to say the least and at first Stan's shock turned to sexual excitement at the sight of such beauty.
But before he had a chance to compute what was going on, a tall redhead stepped forward.
"Well ladies, looks like we caught us a little sissy," announced Becky Moore, "and he is our prisoner."
"That's right," affirmed another, "and the poor little man is outnumbered six to one and can't do a damn thing about it. Can you, Dear?"
..."Look I'm not Jack Foster. I stole his car and house keys and was going to take a few things from the house. My name is Stan, and I am homeless. I didn't want to do it but can't find a job and I have to eat. You have to understand that I was desperate and I regret that I did it. Now just let me make a phone call to the police and confess my crime to them and I'm sure they will come and arrest me for the crime I committed. You see I'm not Foster. He is probably at a hospital by now. At least I hope he is. I hope I didn't kill the poor man when I hit him with that tire tool."
Then hanging his head and covering his face with his hands, Stan sincerely moaned out loud, 'Oh God, what have I done?"
Grinning and lighting a cigarette Becky looked at him closely, "I must say that was a good performance. It certainly gets my vote for and Oscar."