The Underwritten Sex Workers of Musical Theatre, A Support Group
Liz Wasser
THERAPIST: Hi everybody, good evening! We’re ready to get started, let’s all take a seat. Fantine, don’t touch that- leave it alone! Bagels are for after the meeting.
FANTINE: Sorry, I haven’t eaten in weeks. I’ve been saving my francs.
SATINE: Girl, same.
THERAPIST: That’s alright, Fantine. Come sit down. Everyone, welcome to the Underwritten Sex Workers of Musical Theatre Support Group. We have a few new faces tonight-
KIT KAT GIRLS: Willkommen!
THERAPIST: -yes, yes, willkommen. So, why don’t we go around and make some introductions. Fantine, this is your first time with us, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?
FANTINE: Oh, well. Okay. Hello, I’m Fantine, and I’m an Underwritten Sex Worker of Musical Theatre-
KIT KAT GIRLS: Bienvenue!
KIM: (Whispering) That means “welcome.”
FANTINE: Thank you, I know, I’m French.
KIM: Oh, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what got into me, I’m very young and shy.
THERAPIST: Kim, we’ve talked about this, you don’t need to be weak and subservient.
KIM: Oh god please forgive me.
GIGI: Oh, Kim, honestly, you’re regressing. Hello, Fantine. I’m Gigi and this is my friend, Kim. We’re from Saigon and we’re sex workers because we’re Asian and those are the roles that white men write for us in musicals. She is innocent at heart, I’m fun but ruined: bet you can’t guess which one of us finds love!
THERAPIST: Now, Gigi. No need to be bitter. We’re all fighting antiquated archetypes, that’s why we’re here.
ALDONZA: Excuse me, but I am not an antiquated archetype.
THERAPIST: We certainly don’t mean any offense, Aldonza.
ALDONZA: Aldonza is the Whore. My name… is Dulcinea. Ok, I see your point.
THERAPIST: Go on, Fantine.
FANTINE: Yes...well, my story isn’t so special. I met a man who used me for sex, I got pregnant, sent my baby to go live with two very funny sociopaths, got sexually harassed at work, got fired for it because some bitch was jealous-
THERAPIST: We try not to blame other women here. For all you know, your old coworker might be in the Nameless Featured Ensemble Support Group down the hall.
FANTINE: Makes sense, my apologies. Anyway, I sold all of my earthly possessions, my hair, and my body, fell into extreme poverty, got sick with… actually, I don’t know what I got sick with.
SATINE: We all get sick. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, live on the street or on top of a giant elephant, we all have as many dreams as we’ve had dicks inside of us, so we all have to get sick. It’s theatrical justice.
THE GROUP nods in agreement.
SATINE: Early symptoms usually include belting longingly into the mid-distance and having dreams about flying away or mind movies or parties that never end-
MIMI: AwwwOOOOOOOoooooooo!
SATINE: Yes, Mimi. Or howling.
MIMI: You don’t know me, Satine! Nobody knows me! And no one can tame me.
SATINE: Our lives are literally identical.
MIMI: Nah-AH! I wear hot pants!
SATINE: Oh, please. You’re a cover of me at best. And if I know anything, I know covers.
THERAPIST: Now girls, don’t make me wrangle you like a couple o’ Texas steers!
THE GROUP is silent.
THERAPIST: Go on, Fantine.
FANTINE: That’s it, really. Some man who could have easily prevented my tragic fall decided to wait until I was on my deathbed to take pity on me. I’m not around for act two, but I assume this last-minute virtue signaling only endeared him to the audience. And then I… died, I guess? But somehow I’m here?
THERAPIST: Yes, almost everyone here has died.
KIM: Suicide!
TUP TIM: Me too, probably!
GIGI: God, that’s problematic.
SATINE: Disease.
MIMI: I also had a disease. But… a different one than Satine!
LUCY: I was murdered by a man who was scientifically distilled evil, but not before we sang a sexy duet and made sure to establish that I was illiterate.
THERAPIST: Oh, that’s a classic! You’re Lucy, right?
KIT KAT GIRLS: WILKOM-
THERAPIST: Yes yes yes, welcome in all of the languages. Lucy, if you wouldn’t mind just treating us like the audience of your musical and introduce yourself in relation to the male lead?
LUCY: Oh, I’m the whore from Jekyll and Hyde.
THERAPIST: That’s right! And your last name?
LUCY: Um… Hooker? I don’t know. My full name might have been on my birth certificate but, again, I wouldn’t have been able to read it.
TUP TIM: Oh, I love your big song! As long as he needs me-
NANCY: That’s me, actually.
LUCY: This is my lover, Nancy.
NANCY: (Taking LUCY’S hand) We met in the London morgue where they dump the corpses of the poor women who are brutally murdered by their abusive boyfriends and well… the rest is history!
The door bursts open. ADO ANNIE enters with her arm inside of LUCY THE SLUT.
LUCY THE SLUT: Did somebody say “Lucy”, ‘cause heeerrreee I… Annie, shimmy my tits for me, babe. Thanks. Heerreee I am!
ADO ANNIE: Are we late for the sex party?
THERAPIST: For the last time, this is an Underwritten Sex Workers Support Group. It isn’t a sex party.
GIGI: (To FANTINE) The Underwritten Slut Support Group is on Wednesdays, but it usually devolves into an orgy by the end of the night. Which reminds me, it’s my turn to bring the orange slices.
SATINE: I love a good sex party! Where we can all talk about sex, baby! Where sex is in the air, I don’t care, I love the smell of it, it smells like sex and candy! Where-
THERAPIST: Satine, please stop, that is too many references.
SATINE: BIRTHDAY SEX! I’m done.
BEGGAR WOMAN: I’d like to introduce myself!
THERAPIST: Sure, Beggar Woman. Go ahead.
BEGGAR WOMAN: Hello, my name is Bucket and I was born inside the pouch of a kangaroo. I was married to Odin, the Allfather who made me his queen but I got demoted when I cooked his pancakes with apple slices-
FANTINE: Is… is she okay?
THERAPIST: She’s fine. Her backstory is so disturbing we typically just let her ramble. She’s pretty much operating on her own power grid. Like the great state of Texas!
BEGGAR WOMAN: And that is how I became the Great Tic Tac Bandit!
FANTINE: Does she have an actual name?
JOANNA enters.
JOANNA: Her name is Lucy, because of course it is. Hi all, sorry to interrupt, just here to pick up my Mom.
THE GROUP groans.
MIMI: Spoilers, Joanna! Jesus.
GIGI: Speaking of Jesus, where’s Mary Magdalene?
ALDONZA: Probably off getting stoned.
EVERYONE laughs.
FANTINE: Isn’t that a joke from Hair?
BEGGAR WOMAN: Bitch, what would you know about hair?
EVERYONE, including FANTINE laughs.
BEGGAR WOMAN: What? Did I miss a hunchback doing a cartwheel?
THERAPIST: Oh, you girls keep me young! I feel bright as the stars at night in the great state of Texas! As fresh as a spring Bluebonnet, which is, of course, the state flower of-
ALDONA: Fine, I’ll bite. What’s up with all of the references to Texas?
THERAPIST: (Sighing) I knew this day would come. You thought me a mere professional facilitator, one who perhaps minored in Performance Studies. But, we are not so different, you and I, for I too am an Underwritten Sex Worker of Musical Theatre.
EVERYONE gasps.
KIM: I knew it!
GIGI: Shut up, Kim. No, you didn’t.
KIM: You’re right, I’m so so so sorry for speaking.
THERAPIST: For forty-two long seasons I have buried my truth, making only the most subtle references to my home state, but I cannot hide my authentic self any longer. It is I… Miss Mona! I run The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas!
THE GROUP is silent.
FANTINE: I have no idea what any of that means.
THERAPIST: Hang on.
THE THERAPIST opens the top button of her shirt, revealing ample cleavage. THE GROUP gasps again.
NANCY: Oh, I remember! You’re from 9 to 5!
THERAPIST: What? No!
GIGI: No, obviously she’s the lead in Hands on a Hard Body.
KIM: Isn’t that about a car?
GIGI: No, you mousy embarrassment, it’s about a prostitute in Texas who touches men with sexy hard bodies. You’re thinking of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
TUP TIM: Isn’t that the name of the actress from West Side Story?
MIMI: That’s Chita Rivera.
SATINE: Tumble outta bed and I stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition cause I like to be in America, OK by me in America, American Woman stay away from meeeee-
KIT KAT GIRLS: Fremder, etranger, stanger!
BEGGAR WOMAN: CITY ON FIRE!
FANTINE: I think I’m going to head out. Has anyone seen my filthy tattered shawl?
THERAPIST: Do y’all really not know who I am? Have I become irrelevant? There was a movie with Burt Reynolds, goddammit! Oh my god… has Burt Reynolds become irrelevant?
A knock at the door.
PIPPIN: Hey, kittens. If you don’t mind wrapping up, the Association of White Male Leads Who Think They Are Very Special has the room at 5:00. Gaston has a tray full of PB& Js and I want to make sure Lefou has enough time to cut the crusts off the Wonder Bread.
THE GROUP screams.
PIPPIN: Sheesh. No need to get hysterical.
THE END
You can follow Liz @thelizwasser Photo: Joan Marcus