The Queen of the Galaxy (?)

A woman's gotta make a living, and fantasy sells, even in outer space. This luxury liner is every rich kid's dream come true, with everything that money can by.

As for me, I just work here. I'm an entertainer at the VIP club. The client pays for a fantasy scene, we work the set and the costume and everything before they board, and then we set the stage when it's their time.

So, here I am. I'm supposed to be Queen of the Galaxy or something. Not sure how Her Majesty is supposed to be taken seriously in all this leather and a fancy bra, but who knows what goes on in a teenage boy's head?

But the friggin wig doesn't match and the crown keeps wobbling. At least these gloves are comfy as anything.

When does this kid arrive? If he's late, I'm clocking out. I get paid either way.

I'd say I don't get paid enough for this stuff, but who am I kidding? I may not be Queen of the Galaxy, but I've got her treasury, and you bet I'll be splurging as soon as I get off this ship.