“Hiya, angel; want a drink?” “No dice, bub. I just finished convincing my best friend to lay off the sauce.” “Smart kid. That stuff is nothing but trouble.” Julia looked the man up and down. He was older, maybe around thirty? He wore a sharp charcoal gray double-breasted suit with pinstripes, along with a white shirt and a bright red necktie and matching pocket square. Both his patent leather shoes and his dark brillianti...

For some reason, Forebrain was all wrapped up in trying to dig up the key events in my long, weird life that had brought me here. Specifically, Club Naw-Tee, the awfully named second-dingiest tit bar in the state, where I sprawled on my specially installed sofa booth. On my table, my satchel was still quarter-full of joy, yet empty of any cash at all: the bills once and briefly mine, at that moment in the possession of th...

Her body moved to a beat others couldn’t hear as our pulses slammed in unison with the blow. I expected her to get all herky-jerky with its pounding rhythms, but instead she went the other way, a slow motion sexual vortex of flesh. This day is going great, I thought. Only get better, Forebrain murmured happily as Lizard Brain could only babble Dick, Lady, Hard, Tits, shit like that. “Tell you a fantasy,” the vibrating gir...

“Mitzi” hobbled off the stage, no richer than when she’d walked onto it. I knew she made most of her wad giving incredibly overpriced handies in VIP; her technique wasn’t bad. I preferred her oral. With Jennifer out of view, Lizard Brain got a lot louder, demanding answers as to what the fuck I was doing, screaming about stripperitis and going on and on about risk reward ratio. Shut the fuck up, I told it, but as usual it...

It was just past eleven as I dismounted my motorcycle and walked up to the front door of “San Garibaldi’s Own” Club Naw-Tee. Judging by the cars in the parking lot, I guessed the joint was only moderately busy; I liked timing my entrance to catch the early crowd leaving, and the later partiers just arriving. Louie nodded at me. “Sir,” he said quietly in that mashed-potato voice of his, holding the door as he eyed the drun...