She winked her tattooed eye and took a swig from the bottle. Flexing her arm the eye looked back. It made her think of the barrel of her gun and she picked it up and wiped it on her t-shirt. It was show time.
The door knocked and she assumed it was Kitty. She opened the door to an assault of one-sided conversation.
‘Hey hun, how’s the act coming on? Thought of some new things you can do with the gun yet? Short of shooting yourself I think you’ve pretty much exhausted all possibilities, that would be grotesque burlesque! Bit of a waste though if it didn’t get a crowd. Killing yourself in front of just me and the Bobby Angel would not be a good way to go. The scene was bound to burn out. You’ll find your niche again, you just have to find an original idea. What about adding in a bit of fire-eating, juggling maybe or a bit of magic? You’ve got 1 more week to prove yourself to him and get a crowd in, we’ll get there love.'
She drew breath for a second and leant over to give Val a kiss. ‘I’m a Burlesque star not a bloody circus performer!’, Val ducked her head, ‘although I’d probably have more luck as a tattooed lady. Its time to face facts, my burlesque career is over, its time to reinvent this ghetto fabulous ass into a new money making scheme.
