Sorry to hear of your damaged Cali. Glad your wife is ok but that's one heck of a risky way for her to to upgrade to a T. Possibly a bit of French-Italian collaboration on the bag match interior spec is in order.
Apparently some suitable styles can be found on this site.
Of course I am. We all are by the gentle sex sometimes are we not?
Gentle sex, Paul? Here's the latest:
Women Make Better Assassins!
The Central Intelligence Agency had an opening for an assassin. The Agency sifted through hundreds of exceptional applications and resumes, did all the background checks, interviews and testing and it came down to three final applicants, two men and a woman. The three then had to undergo one final test. The CIA managers took the first man into a room at the far end of which was a large metal door, handed him a short barrel Colt Python revolver and said: "We need to know that when you are given instructions you will follow them to the letter, implicitly and without hesitation or remorse, no matter what the circumstances. Behind that door, inside the room your wife is sitting in a chair. Kill her.
The man said "You can't be serious. I understand your need to put me to the test but you can't possibly expect me to kill my wife". The handler said, "Then it's clear you're not our guy. Go get your wife, you can both leave."
They went through the same drill with the second candidate. He took the Python and went into the room. All was quiet for only a few minutes; then the second man emerged with tears in his eyes, saying: "I tried, I really tried, but I just can't kill my wife."
One of the agents said to the second fellow, "Sorry, but you don't have what it takes, so you're free to take your wife and go home"
Finally, it was the woman's turn. She got the same instructions: to enter the room and kill her husband. She hesitated for a moment, then took the Python and entered the room. In rapid succession six shot rang out, then screaming, crashing, and banging on the walls. Then all was quiet. The door opened slowly and the woman candidate stood there, clothing torn, rumpled and bloody, sweat smearing her face. Catching her breath, she finally said:
"The gun was loaded with blanks; I had to kill him with the chair."