The store is bustling. Audrey II is now five feet tall when he's resting. Seymour dreads the day the customers will see him when he's not. He'd have to feed the plant in front of everyone. It'd be Milliways all over again, and Audrey everyone will know he's a sicko who fed the plant blood.... No more interview with the Skid Row Herald. No more
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Apparently so. He pushes his way over to the counter and grabs the nearest phone. "Hello?" Nope, not that one. Try the other line--"Hello? Yes, yes, yes Mrs. Shiva. No, Mrs. Shiva. Right away, Mrs. Shiva." He slams down the receiver. "Seymour? SEYMOUR!"
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"Sir?"
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"Mrs. Shiva! I forgot!"
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"Audrey, quick! We gotta do an emergency arrangement."
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"Birthday? Wedding? Baby?"
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She grabs a black ribboned vase from the shelf and gets to work.
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"Mr. Mushnik's real mad at me, Audrey," he frets. "I keep...forgetting things." He glances at his bandages hands, knowing exactly why.
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He drops the invoice on the table and heads back out.
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"He took me out of Skid Row Home for Boys when I was just a little tyke. Gave me a warm place to stay, nice things to eat like meatloaf and water, floors to sweep, toilets to clean, and every other Sunday off."
He has to remind himself that this means something. It's not visiting other planets or making mountains but it's...something.
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