[WP]Little Orphan Annie is praying that someone will come and adopt her. During the next open house, Daddy Warbucks never shows, but another beloved billionaire does, Lex Luther

It's a hard knock life living as a poor orphan. Nobody likes you. Nobody wants you. Nobody wants to give you a shot.

The orphanage is a dump. The other kids are dolts. The woman who runs this place is madder than a hatter. She's tried to pawn me off loads of times. But I ain't budging for some sob story couple whose only virtue is being an early adopter. I'm holding out for a prime mom and pop. Nothing but the toppest of tiers for sweet little Annie.

"You're driving me crazy!" cried Agatha Hannigan, the old bird who runs this coop. "I keep finding you nice families with good intentions. I talk you up. I bring them here. But every time you make a fool of me!"

"I don't want to slum it in some suburban duplex," I said. "With milk-toast folks who get weepy at hallmark cards. An accountant for a dad and a gremlin keeper for a mom. No thank you! I'd rather live in a cupboard with rats."

"A gremlin keeper?" cried Hanny the nanny. "She was a kindergarten teacher! They were decent people!"

"And I make a decent ham sandwich, but that doesn't mean I want to sign my life over to a couple thin slices of plain white bread. . .Now, if she played schoolteachers in blockbuster films, then you'd have me on my best behaviour. If she had an investment banker for a hubby, or a senator, then you'd have my full attention. I want springs in Ibiza. Winters in the Alps. I want paparazzi snapping candids of me everywhere I go. Annie Witherspoon, maybe. Annie DiCaprio. The adorable adoptee and aspiring fashionista. I want my name in lights, Aggie. A life like a musical. Days like a dream."

"Impossible child," scolded Aggie the hag. "Impetuous! Absurd! Tearing at your hair and speaking in tongues when these fine people drive all the way out here to meet you. Belching. Running around naked and covered in molasses."

"Your girl's got a natural theatrical flair," I said.

"You'd better smarten up by this afternoon," said Agatha.

"You lure another flea-bit stray my way?" I asked.

"He's a very important man," said Agatha.

"I'm listening."

"A prominent businessman. An inventor. He was on the cover of Time Magazine."

"Golly gee," I said, batting my eyelashes, wearing my most innocent and wonderstruck facade. "He sure does sound swell, Mrs Hannigan. Aw, shucks, but you're probably just yanking this poor orphan's chain. Don't get my hopes up! I want my own mommy and poppy so bad!"

"His name is Lex Luther," said Agatha.

"You're shitting me," I said, dropping the act along with my jaw. "The Lex Luther?"

"So please, Annie, no buffoonery," said Agatha. "This may finally be the opportunity both of us have been praying for."

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