Collaboratively, Arthur and Flossie Shand were successful in building the Little Fiddle empire. The popular public bar situated in the bustling lane, had firmly entrenched itself as the place to frequent. Arthur revelled in the popularity and also enjoyed the attention of the pretty, younger barmaids. Trying his Irish luck, he forgot his martial nuptials and played away from home. Flossie, furious at learning of her husbands’ a air, was determined to teach the unfaithful little shite a lesson. Arthur with his pants around his ankles and egg on his face, realised his fling may have been a grave mistake.
Does Flossie go for the financial jugular of
her cheating husband, or does she back her brand
knowing the power of healthy competition?
Flossie knows how to pack a punch and understands there are two ways to a man’s heart.
Seeking revenge against deceitful, Arthur, Flossie decides to open a whore house across the lane
from Little Fiddle. Unfortunately, the stiff-necked Mayor and his parvenu colleagues, object to
such a business. Hell, scorn and fury, Flossie decides premium steaks and top shelf whiskey could draw the punters from near and far. Flossie gets going with recruiting the nest barmaids in town, sourcing the most succulent cuts of steak, and purchasing the best whiskey from the motherland. Following a tough graft to pull her grand plan together, the sassy Flossie, rubs her hands with glee, batters her full eyelashes and stands on the ladder ensuring her long legs can be seen. Across the lane, Arthur is watching from the small window at the back of Little Fiddle.
Flossie had Arthur in her sights, and tugs on a large
piece of canvas, to unveil her latest jewel in the
crown – Whiskey Fiddle