Toiling away at Horseweed’s Tavern is Agnes Biggenbotten, whose name is more like a description. The poor thing, innocent as the day is long, is totally unaware of the stir she causes while she goes about her chores. The men-folk crowd into the pub every night to be mesmerized by her famous and—well—plump attribute. But alas, one man cannot simply watch the show and soon attempts to seduce the naďve Agnes. His death is discovered by a minister already convinced of her guilt, due to her absence in his church, and soon our heroine is accused of witchcraft, a crime she did not commit. Freed by one of her secret admirers, she flees her home. But where in the world can someone like Agnes run to? Will the exiled dandy Baron Dapplegrey be her savior or just another man wishing to sample her—um—assets? Above all, does she have the time to find out before Witch-Hunter Finneas Weevel, who is hot on her trail, brings her to justice?
Retrieving the froth-filled tankard from Horseweed’s hand, the plump-bottomed girl swirled in place and moved toward the community leader.
"Ah, now that’s a sight for sore eyes," Dubious remarked.
Agnes, of course, entirely missed the double meaning.
"That’s your sixth one tonight, Mr. Mayor," she chastised him lightly. "You should take a break and have a bit of something to eat."
"Oh, I plan to, Agnes my dear."
"What’ll it be? We have a nice mutton stew made with fresh potatoes and herbs…."
"Yes, Your Honor?"
"Have you given thought to what you’ll do for the rest of your life?"
"Oh, not me!" she exclaimed with a giggle. "I’m happy here."
"But the world is so wonderful, and there are many things you could do and see if you only left this inn."
"What, me travel abroad?"
"Why ever not?"
"For the life of me I can’t think of why I’d need to do that. I’m quite content to serve the good people of Lower East Drearie here at the pub, just like my mom."
"I have been out there, you know," Dubious leered. "You couldn’t imagine the startling sights, tasty treats and wonderful sounds awaiting you just beyond the horizon. I could show you—I have both the means and the time to do so."
"But who will serve the customers here? And the village needs you to govern over it!"
Slumping in defeat and watching her waltz away, the pudgy official conceded the battle but girded his loins to win the war.