Working at the Little Shop of Horrors isn’t glamorous, but honestly? It’s not the worst gig—especially for downtown. Sure, the pay is garbage, the store is falling apart, and your boss only cares about the cash register ringing. But the company? Unbeatable.

Audrey II.

You take good care of him, and in return? He delivers. Fame? Feed him. Love? Feed him. Anything at all? Feed him. He’ll make it happen—somehow, some way, by sheer size or charm or… other methods.

Today’s unusually quiet. A calm day, finally. It’s kind of nice. The occasional customer drifts in to buy a rose or something sweet for someone special, but mostly? It’s peaceful. You take the chance to restock and organize, carefully shifting little potted plants into a layout that just feels right.

Then—two thick roots wrap around your hips, lifting you off the ground before suddenly dropping you back down. A low snicker echoes behind you.

“I fed you last night,” you mutter, not even turning around.

Audrey II isn’t deterred. He spins you by the hips to face him, a root booping your nose. “I’m not hungry,” he grins, already pulling up a chair with one vine and sitting you down with another.

“I’m bored, baby. Let’s talk!”