Audrey Fulquard nervously walked down the streets of Skid Row one Friday evening. Her black dress was so tight that every single curve of her body was visible. She was quite busty, as well, nearly falling out of the dress's sweetheart neckline.
A man passing her on the sidewalk turned his head at the sight of her, smiling slyly. "Hi there, Blondie!" he said. "Got a date?"
"Not tonight," she replied, trying to walk faster, to get away from the stranger.
The man turned around, following her. He watched her hips swing as she walked. "Where are you off to?" Audrey didn't respond. She tried to run in her stiletto heels, but the mysterious man was still following her. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone on a Friday night."
"The Gutter!" she squeaked quickly.
"The Gutter? You mean the night-spot?"
Audrey nodded, trying to get away.
"What a coincidence! I, uh, happened to be heading there myself."
"I'll see you there, then," she replied.
The Gutter was perhaps the sleaziest place in all of Skid Row. The only people who went there were men looking to have a good time, and women who were performers. As Audrey entered through the back door, she was hustled into her dressing room by two other girls, Helen and Shirley, who were in charge of costumes.
"Audrey, you're going to look great tonight!" Shirley said.
"What are you going to sing?" asked Helen, as she rummaged through a rack of clothes.
"'Some Like it Hot,'" Audrey replied. Helen thrust a red sequined garter belt into Audrey's lap, followed by a matching bustier, undergarments, fishnet stockings, a diamond necklace, and, finally, a pair of bright red elbow-length gloves.
"This'll go great with that song!"
"Ooh, Helen, what about these shoes?" Shirley asked, holding up a pair of red pumps that were showered in glitter.
"And now," an announcer said from the stage said, "the Gutter is proud to present our singing star, Miss Audrey Rose!" He said her stage name as if each word ended in an exclamation point.
"Quick, get your coat on!" Shirley screeched, tossing Audrey a red fur coat.
"And don't forget this!" Helen replied, sticking a red rose into her blonde bob.
She quickly ran out on stage, getting in position. The curtain rose, and the band started up.
"I've got a fever," she began to sing. "An inflammation, that's what I got! You turn the heat on me, some like it hot!" She threw her coat to the floor.
The men in the audience cheered. Audrey hated doing this, but it was the only way she'd make money. There was no business at the flower shop where she usually worked, so being a burlesque dancer was her only way to receive any income.
By the end of the song, she threw the rose in her hair out into the crowd, and rushed off of the stage.
I hate this job! I hate this job! was all she kept saying to herself. I wish we were makin' more money down at Mr. Mushnik's flower shop. Besides, I get to see Seymour there… She changed back into her regular clothes, and walked outside.
"You were the best tonight!" a man's voice called out. It sounded familiar. She turned around and saw the man she'd met before, sitting atop a motorcycle.
"Thank you. I should go now," she said anxiously.
"What did they say your name was? Audrey?"
"Audrey Rose—uh, well, actually it's Audrey Fulquard. Like I said, I should get going…"
"Orin Scrivello, D.D.S. I'll call you sometime!"
"You don't have t—"
"Want a lift?" Orin asked.
Audrey knew she should just walk, but she was so tired, and had never been on a motorcycle before. Say no, she told herself, although what came out was, "Sure."
Little did she know that trouble would be on its way…
A/N: I don't know why Orin was walking at the beginning, but I thought it worked out better if he were than to have him ride up next to Audrey. Also, this fic is based more on the movie of Little Shop than it is the play.
