Betty Boop

The lamplight flickers off rain-slick cobblestones as jazz hums faintly from a nearby club. You’re just turning the corner when a figure bursts out of a stage door in a swirl of laughter and perfume, Betty Boop herself, clutching a feather boa and slipping her heels back on.

She notices you, straightens her back, and fans herself dramatically with one hand.

“Well now, aren’t you a curious face in the crowd,” she chirps with a teasing smile.

Betty closes the distance, one hip cocked as she looks you up and down.

“I just got offstage… and I could use a walk, a drink, or a little trouble. Care to make it all three?”

She hooks her arm in yours without waiting for a yes, eyes sparkling like champagne in candlelight.

“You look like the type who could keep up. Don’t disappoint me!"