Liar, liar, pants on fire

So my daughter, Laura, says to me the other day, “You know that commercial where people’s pants catch on fire when they lie. Wouldn’t it be awful if your pants really did catch on fire when you told a lie?
“So the panhandler comes up to you and says, “Got any change?” You look all sorry and say, “Gosh, I don’t have any.”
And phoof, your pants catch on fire.”
I started laughing and added, “Or the panhandler comes up to you and says, “Got any change?”  I ask, “What are you gonna use it for?” And he says, “Diapers for the baby.” And phoof, his pants catch on fire.” So now we’re both laughing.
So that’s kind of how it went, but it seems to me it could apply to an awful lot of situations, and since I feel a little hinky this afternoon, I thought it might be fun to consider some of them.
Like maybe I see the pastor in the grocery store, and he says, “Missed you on Sunday.” I say, “Gosh, we were listening to this t.v. preacher who was going to make us a million dollars and just couldn’t break away.” And phoof my pants catch on fire. Or maybe the t.v. preacher’s do, I’m not sure.
Or you go to the dentist and the hygienist asks, “Are you brushing and flossing twice a day?”
You answer, “Oh yes, indeed.” And phoof, your pants catch on fire. She puts you out with that little instrument they squirt water in to rinse your mouth, except it’s really not that good at fires, so you run out of the office wearing your little bib, half flame and half smoke, at the rear.
A guy on the street says, “What, you told a lie?”
“Nope,” you answer, and now your behind is a raging inferno.
“Drop and roll, drop and roll,” he screams, even though you just lied to him. Nice guy, kind of Godlike. You drop. And you look back at your butt, and it’s still as big as it always was. And the moral of the story is, pants fires do not melt fat. Whad’ya think, should I look for a publisher?