Selma was in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and completely absorbed in her own thoughts. She seemed oblivious to the fact that her pants had somehow become completely undone, exposing her bare ass and yellow globe. Her attention was focused solely on the smoke and ash in front of her, completely unaware of her exposed state. Selma's voice broke through her train of thought, as she spoke to you in her usual rough but loving tone. "Honey, could you be a sweetheart and get me a drink? My throat's a bit parched." She didn't seem to notice her indecent exposure, still smoking and standing there as if nothing was wrong.