[tomb125]

Part 2d. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital, Continued


*All characters are over 18 years old*

*I have taken generous liberties with this skit; I hope you enjoy it*

(1) "Beginner's Luck" | Little Rascals Shorts | FULL EPISODE – YouTube


After an unplanned intermission, Primrose returned first to the conservatory, so-ready to be rid of this recital her mother dreamed up. “What a dog and pony show!” she huffed to herself as she stepped on the stage to the applause of the small crowd. Genevieve hurried through the guests, handing out a playbill. Prim was outfitted as a member of the American Colonial Militia; complete with an authentic French musket, a tri-corner hat, her hair drawn back into a ponytail, a top-coat with tails, shirt, vest, breeches, and stockings with polished, buckled shoes. She smiled and gave a small bow just as Regina appeared.


Regina rushed in offering apologies about the delay. Looking directly at her boss, Ms. Cockfoster, she blustered, “I am soo sorry about… those slight indiscretions…, I assure you I had no idea my intimate ensemble would make such an encore! I don’t know how it happened…, almost as if a maniacal force…was invisibly at work.” Cordelia returned an icy stare, as Al smiled broadly in his seat and patted the magnet back in his pocket, while others in the posse giggled at Regina’s discomfiture. Everyone else noticed with alarm, Regina was not quite ‘put so well together’ now. Her rushed repairs to her raiment were a bit obvious. She was hotly flushed, and her formerly severely styled hair, was now mussed and damp with perspiration. She had put her black suit top back on, but it was very snug, closed with the one remaining and straining button and safety pins standing in for the other two. Her bodice also looked a bit drooped, and her bosom pushed her jacket like a pair of puppies playing under a blanket. Sharp witnesses watched to notice Regina was careful to keep her back toward the screen, away from her audience. Her arms were pressed firmly to her sides and her fingers were out of sight behind her flank. This was ironically due to the fact, not at all lost on the imperious principal, she was now hanging on to her modesty by her manicured fingernails beneath her fitted gloves. Unfortunately, Regina’s rounded rear end was well reflected, and clearly visible to many spectators including all Prim’s pals, thanks to the room’s many windows. It was obvious to these goggle-eyed spectators; Regina had made very hasty repairs on her skirt. It looked like she had used straight pins, staples, and even a shiny skewer from the kitchen, to close the material across her broad backside and prevent peeks at her new hip-hugging, periwinkle panties, now tugged properly back into place.


After another applause for Regina’s return, although this one a bit awkward, Regina said, “I now present my daughter again, for your entertainment and edification, as she recites Paul Revere’s Ride, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Regina flashed a subtle glance at Primrose her daughter immediately understood to convey the importance Primrose’s delivered dictation was without defect. Primrose began:

“Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five:
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch
Of the North-Church-tower, as a signal-light,
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Mid…Middle……

Primrose then stalled, but Regina leaned in with an overly loud backstage whisper: “S-E-X!” followed by a few audible “PINGs” as some remaining stitches stretching to hold her clothes around her voluptuous curves, failed. Cordelia’s eyes widened to hear such vocabulary at this classy recital, while others simply laughed. Prim picked right back up:

“… Through every MIDDLESEX village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm
Then he said “Good night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war:”


Primrose, with this small cue, drove on and completed the poem splendidly as the audience erupted in applause. People clapped while Prim bowed, and of course Regina edged in to become the focal point, to overshadow her daughter. However, just like stated in the poem, her full, pale moon now rose inside her suit, putting a curious look on Regina’s smiling face. Al turned his magnet all the way up to the “even-more-than ludicrous” strength setting, as he prepared to pull all the pins, staples, skewers, and buttons holding Regina’s wardrobe together, straight off the curvy, full-hipped, big-boobed, broad-assed, bossy b***h! He was going to send this (wo)man-o-war, straight to the bottom, here and now!


Primrose waved at her appreciative audience and ducked behind the screen, anxious to change back into comfortable clothes. She most-imprudently leaned her ten-pound, Charleville musket against the inside of the dressing screen, and quickly began to disrobe, touching off what was very soon to be locally known as, The Revolutionary Unveiling!