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Part 2a. Primrose’s Ruinous Recital



*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


With a “RIIIING!” the doorbell sounded in the lovely Italianate villa, home to none other than Ms. Regina Dubois, now Dean of Students of the Ivy Industrial Institute. Running late this fine fall afternoon, Regina was startled to hear her guests had already arrived. “MILES, DO GET THE DOOR!” She shouted from her dressing room, towards the stairs. Today she was a bit on edge, firstly for having so hastily put this show together, and secondly for failing to try on her new outfit since buying it nearly a month ago. She regrettably realized now, she had put on a few pounds, and her elegant black wool suit was irritatingly snug, and not quite accommodating her recent, albeit modest, weight gain. Fortunately, her hair and makeup were now perfect, as she stood tall and with a deep breath, tugged the zipper of her pencil-skirt up into place. She lightly brushed her manicured fingers, against her flaming red hair, fashionably pinned up with a delicate clasp in the likeness of a green, fire-breathing dragon, and cleared the slightest sheen of perspiration from her complexion. She smiled and affirmed, “Of course, all will be fine and this recital will make me the talk of the town. Today I am wearing new underwear, which obviously nobody is going to see, but it always makes me feel more confident.” Regina stepped into a pair of black suede 4-inch heels, giving her a height of well over six feet. With a look to the full-length mirror, Regina saw the tiny pearl buttons fastening her white linen blouse, straining to contain her bountiful bosom, pressing skyward against her shirtwaist, barely contained by her immodest brassiere. “Oh my… Oh… well, no matter” she assured herself, steeling her nerve with another sip from the flute on the table. “No one will see these either,” she said with a husky tenor as she caressed her magnificent mounds and tweaked her covered nipples as she stooped forward with her eyes closed. “Ms. Dubois! Your guests are HERE!” With this shout from downstairs, Regina snapped back to reality, and pulled on her fitted jacket and fastened the silver buttons down the front. With a tug to straighten the jacket’s sleeves, she posed in the mirror with her hands on her full hips, “Knock them dead, my queen! MmmWHA” Regina declared, as she puckered and kissed her image. She donned a pair of matching gloves and hurried to the stairs. Now most fashionably resplendent, Regina made her entrance.


“Welcome everyone!” she announced to her awed guests as she glided down the steps into the foyer. “I am SO glad you all could attend my reception today! …and see my lovely daughter Primrose perform. Right this way to our recital, please follow me,” she directed, as she led everyone from the foyer. As she walked, she turned and regarded her guests. “Today I am receiving in the conservatory, where my Primmy will dance, sing, and act. She is sure to win your hearts!” They followed; the men mesmerized, the women miffed, and the teens drooling, at the sight of Regina’s hourglass form sashaying before them. Her bottom was a sight to behold as it moved, or rather undulated, beneath her tight skirt with seemingly a life of its own. This stressed skirt, from below the trim of her short suit jacket, to just below her knee, was sliced by a deep vent, through which, all could see the seams of her black silk stockings. The seams were of course, perfectly straight. This vent behind Regina’s skirt allowed her legs to move with an authoritative purpose as her heels clicked in exclamation at each step she took. It also provided rear-viewers a mouthwatering display of her long silken-clad legs, whispering together as they gently chafed, upwards to mid-thigh, and every few feet, a welt of stocking top winked back at her anticipative audience.


Regina brought them into the wing of her home housing the conservatory, filled with many plants from around the world. The room was surrounded with large windows and skylights providing ample sunlight for the flora. It was in fact, a bit warm, and the air humid in this room. More well-turned heels clicked on the black and white tiled floor where comfortable chairs and small tables were arranged in a semicircle around a temporary parquet dance floor, laid out in a small square. A baby grand piano stood to one side. Behind the performance area was a room divider, a fabric screen decorated with flower motifs. On the other side of the floor, hung a gilded cage containing a colorful parrot. “Here we are,” Regina announced. “Please allow my ushers, Miles and Genevieve, to now seat you.” Both students looked uncomfortable dressed as footmen, wearing tight black breeches, white shirts, bow ties, and black vests. Genevieve first seated the matronly Ms. Cordelia Cockfoster, the Ivy Industrial Institute’s provost, then Mr. Ernest Bastermats, owner of the Bastermats Chemical Company, at the table closest to the dancefloor. Both local dignitaries were to be judges at the talent show, so Regina was determined they have the best seats. Next, Miles seated Mrs. Batavia Modiste, a prominent custom clothier in the community, and Mrs. Henriette Fontaine, owner of the local pâtisserie in Puttyville, and provider of today’s delightful dessert. Gen then seated the Reverend Father Roger Thomas, pastor from the Dubois family church, the two Doctors, A. Tiva-Veg and Vag, the family practitioners, and District Attorney Byron Gao. Lastly, the two student servants seated Brooke Broadsheets and Edward French, while the parrot piped, “Look at all the bootiful people, AWK, bootiful dressy people!”


Regina glared and snapped back at her bird, “Mimic, be silent!” She stood to address her guests, when the doorbell rang again. Annoyed by this disruption, the lady of the house herself marched back to the entry hall and opened the door. With a look of surprise, followed by a condescending smirk, Regina regarded the remainder of her Primrose’s posse. The group was led by Annie, who walked right inside, brushing past the gob smacked Regina. Beth followed Annie. Al Roper tramped in last, followed by Pete the pup whose muddy paws printed all over Regina’s entryway rugs. Regina stared at Al, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. He looked like an outlaw biker. Regina opened her mouth to protest, but was immediately interrupted by her very own mother, clapping her hands in approval, as she crossed the threshold. Dame Dominique Dubois declared, “REG! Look who I found outside! They were hesitant to ring the bell. Our gang’s all here!” Regina winced at her mother’s use of her childhood nickname, but closed the door and faced her recital’s unanticipated trail party. Dominique insisted, “Regina, we are now ready to begin, take us to see the show straight away!” When Regina faltered, her mother continued, “Students, follow me,” as she led the freshmen, staring around at the handsome home, toward the conservatory. Regina hurriedly minced along behind them, muttering a protest about Primrose inviting more of her friends than Regina had told her was acceptable. Now she would have to closely supervise these little rascals and their nasty dog very closely, or her chic show might devolve into an absolute disaster.