Suggested Audio Jukebox ♫
[1] Starvue “Body Fusion”
[2] Hed PE “Bartender”
[3] Grace Jones “Pull Up To The Bumper”
[4] Tina Turner “Private Dancer”
[5] Roxette “Dangerous”
[6] Mike Post ft. Larry Carlton “Theme From Hill Street Blues”
[7] N*E*R*D “Lapdance”
[8] The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster “Team Meat”
I never understood why they called them gentlemen’s clubs you know. Seems a little like false advertising if you ask me. When was the last time you saw a well-to-do aristocrat arrive at a strip joint on horse and carriage clutching a dozen red roses and burst into serenade by the rear fire exit? Precisely, it just doesn’t happen. That’s not to suggest that social climbers aren’t welcome at establishments such as these, on the contrary, they’re positively encouraged. But at no point are they looking to take the girls out for a nice steak dinner and bombard them with romantic gestures; they just want to see how far they can spread their legs while grinding up and down a greased-up pole. That’s the long and short of it and The Stiff Russian is reported to provide plenty of that. Right now that suits me down to the ground as, after the last few hours I’ve had, I could do with a little change of pace and this place comes highly recommended. Of course, it’s as much about business as pleasure, and I fully expect it to all go off before last orders. But that still leaves a good hour’s drinking time by my estimations.
Brandy and Chardonnay are top of the bill here and folk come from far and wide just to see the terrible twins in action. It’s just another night at the office for them although, little do they know, I’m here to put these bitches on ice and won’t rest until I’ve put them both out of commission. With nine hookers already dealt with, I’m dangerously close to being considered on a roll here, and they’re all that stands between me and the all-important big bust. However, I’m under no illusion as to the enormity of this task, as their insane agility makes them something of a hyper threat and an easy ride is something I’m certainly not expecting. My A-game will be imperative, the margin of error miniscule, and I’ll need to keep my wits about me at all times. While most fools would see rushing in as a good place to start, I need a little time to see what I’m up against and figure out all available exits before reaching the point of no return. Relatively little is known about their combat expertise as few have lived to tell the tale after being led away to the red room for the ultimate intimate experience. I just pray that the duct tape holding my ankles together holds out as I’ll be needing my getaway sticks if things get sticky as they invariably do.
Anyway, your job is to stay here in the car and await my return partner. While I’d love to offer you a more hands-on role in the upcoming bust, you’ve been stone cold dead for over an hour now, and seven Magic Tree Air Fresheners just ain’t cutting through the haze anymore. I’ve seen Weekend At Bernie’s and, while Bernie appeared to be having a whale of a time, his entourage looked thoroughly pissed off and even more embittered come the sequel. Thus I will be operating solo here and already have my plan figured out once I pass beyond the doors of truth and take my seat on the bar stool of destiny. Perhaps I’ll order myself the cocktail of courage from the bartender of encouragement but I certainly won’t be dipping into the bar nuts of blight as I’ve heard the restrooms of relief are all out of the hand wash of decontamination and it would be a travesty coming down with the blindness of sightlessness during the finale of finality. That would suck the balls of toil and I forgot to pack the throat lozenge of purification prior to this little diversion. You just keep an eye out and I’ll be back before Lindsay Lohan can make her one phone call.
Nice place. Real classy. Indeed I’m hard pressed to recall when I’ve seen so many trucker’s unwashed butt cracks in one enclosure. That said, the aroma hanging in the air couldn’t be less evocative of asshole, and I’m kind of digging the scent of cherry lip balm if I’m honest. You know when you wander into a Vegas casino and your nostrils are greeted by pure oxygen? Well this is a similarly persuasive concoction, although perhaps not quite as wholesome as the lips in question are not the kind you kiss mother with if you know what I’m saying. Okay, time to paint some drapes on that mental picture, it reeks of pussy and not the domestic kind either. We’re talking the filthy little pole cat strain and, looking around my current coordinates, I’d say I just stumbled into the mother litter. I guess it would be a good time to grab myself that drink before the lightheadedness becomes unmanageable and I pass out where I stand. Just one thing before I place my order, is it just me or does the bartender look vaguely familiar?
“What will you be drinking sir?”
“Hair of the dog that bit me. Actually, make it a Rum and coke my good man. And make it a double, I’m feeling particularly thrifty tonight”
“Well you’ve come to the right place sir”
“It would appear so. Name’s Mike Smith by the way”
“Really? That’s my name too sir”
Two Mike Smiths in one joint, what are the odds of that happening? Okay so 7-2 ain’t all that lucrative a payout and one of these Mike Smiths is actually a Nick McGovern. But still it’s a welcome dash of whimsy.
“Funny. I had you down more as a Lloyd”
“I get that a lot sir. No I’m just regular Mike Smith I’m afraid”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Care for a top up sir?”
“Yeah why not. It’s not every day that we Mike Smiths get to hang out”
“That’s the spirit sir. So I take it you’re here to see Brandy and Chardonnay?”
“I try not to mix my liquor”
“You’re not aware of Brandy and Chardonnay sir?”
“Enlighten me”
“They’re identical twins and the hottest act on the roster by far or any roster come to think of it. You’re in for quite the treat sir”
“Oh goody. When are they on?”
“Well Brandy is on in around five minutes time and you can catch up with Chardonnay in the V.I.P. lounge shortly after if your funds can stretch to it sir”
My poor sweet Minnie. Daddy promises to replenish your college fund the very moment one of his greyhounds come in. For now my little princess, needs must, and I want you to know that you’ll always be my special girl regardless of how things turn out between mommy and I. Daddy may be going away for a while after tonight but will always be right there in your heart. Now I would prefer if you not tell mommy about our conversation or explain in vivid detail where you’ve seen me. This is a place of healing sugar, a place that daddies come to when they need to do daddy things, a place that mommies shouldn’t know about. Remember it’s our little secret poppet and thanks again for the lend. You have daddy’s word that it will be the best $200 he’s ever spent. It’ll all make sense when you’re older.
“I think my funds can stretch to that. Like I said, I’m feeling thrifty”
“Excellent sir. You won’t be disappointed, of that I can assure you. The twins put on a splendid show”
“After the night I’ve had Mike, that’s music to my ears. Now fill her up again will you”
“Why of course sir”
Nice fella. That said, when have you ever met a Mike Smith that wasn’t a nice fella? It appears that my timing couldn’t have been any better and I have my trusty Casio to thank for that one as it seldom loses time. In little more than the time it takes Tom Green to thread a sausage, I shall be perched front and centre at Brandy’s grand unveiling and about to receive what the kindly bartender informs me are two generous scoops of eye gelato. Indeed, staff are already oiling up her alloy mast as we speak, and the general air is one of faint frenzy as the rest of the punters ruminate over whether or not they’ve made it into the splash zone. I have to say it’s all terribly exciting and it is getting awfully troublesome concealing said enthusiasm. However, I’m a professional dagnabbit, and refuse to let the bull out of the gate as the chief’s orders were to “shoot those hookers” and had he requested I “shoot over those hookers” then this would all be about to play out entirely differently.
And there she is. I particularly like the graceful manner in which she mounted the pole and she really does look a picture so delicately poised on her apparatus. This was in no way the sleazy entrance I had been anticipating and I’m actually finding it all terribly tasteful. That bartender should be sacked effective immediately after leading me down the primrose path as Brandy has a girl next door quality about her and a certain je ne sais pas that sets her apart from the rest of the sewer rats I’ve been tasked with exterminating. Actually scrap that, had the girl next door removed her bra simply by flexing her shoulder-blades then I’d have never left my bedroom. Moreover, I only ever saw the girl next door facing the right way up.
That must take extraordinary lower body strength. It would appear that Brandy is warming up now and I’m starting to realize where this is headed you know. That said, she seems far too classy a gal to remove her panties in front of dozen upon dozen of leering leeches. Nope, not quite as upmarket as it initially appeared, as they too have been considered surplus to requirements. At least she has her legs closed, a real lady would never dream of opening wide before such a rowdy rabble. Actually, I believe she just achieved wingspan. I know one thing, a real lady would never entertain bending over right in my face and giving my nose a nuzzle. Stop it, that tickles. Does she bleach that thing? I’ve seen yeti less dazzling white. Okay so I’m now reasonably assured that she’s taken more loads than Eddie Murphy’s washing machine. The only thing that could convince me more at this point would be her producing stainless steel cutlery and using it to eat herself out with.
I’m a little disappointed that it’s not a dessert spoon although far be it for me to interrupt a girl when she’s got her cheeks full. Anyone would think that she hasn’t had a square meal for months, poor thing. Never mind, the good thing about lost time is making up for it and boy is she making up for it. It’s a good job she can’t lick out the bowl as that would be appalling etiquette at this point. Dear lord, she must have a damn good chiropractor. The file didn’t lie when explaining Brandy as somewhat adaptable as I haven’t witnessed this kind of elasticity since that one Christmas party when I indulged in one too many tampered mince pies and watched Inspector Gadget in my underpants. Nevertheless it will take more than a few cut-price hooker tricks to wrestle the bullock from this paddock. I like to think myself impervious to such trailer park tactics although that third double rum and coke may have just kicked in and, with it, the famous Nick McGovern resolve appears to be slackening. Please don’t offer me your sloppy seconds Brandy. I already ate at tea time.
Now look what you’ve done. There really is only so much that a man can take you know and you should be ashamed of yourself for such a fragrant exhibition of pretty much everything bar the kitchen sink and I wouldn’t be surprised if they carry one out for your next trick. Where’s your dignity young lady? Could it be inside your vagina? Perhaps I should take a quick look as you need to focus on your balance and I’d hate for you to suffer a head injury at this point during our little exchange. That’s what this is now right? An exchange. I mean, there has to be eighty amorous alphas bulging at the peepers right now yet it’s my cattle you’re predisposed with herding and it’s starting to feel like there’s absolutely nobody else present. This is where I must refrain from being lulled into a false sense of security as, should I unload my .45 Ruger into your pretty little head right now, I’m not entirely sure that wouldn’t be viewed as something of a public execution. Cops just can’t go shooting folk in plain sight of an audience or perhaps they can but I’m not willing to take any chances. Play it cool Nick and invite her to a nice secluded spot for a cozy little nightcap. No harm in that right?
“Nice moves”
“I know”
“Hey I know this spot, just over by the fire exit that leads directly to the dumpster, and wondered whether you fancy joining me for a drink?”
“Well that depends”
“On what?”
“On how you’re going to persuade me”
“Well I was hoping that Benjamin Franklin could do that for you”
“You know that’s Monopoly money right?
I wouldn’t mind if Minnie had slipped it into daddy’s wallet when he wasn’t looking, but I just drew that out the ATM machine for Pete’s sake.
“There’s more where that came from”
“What you mean Monopoly money?”
No I’m talking of the real deal. You know – loot, bread, moolah, dead presidents, wonga, smackers, spondulix. Keep this down as the last thing I want right now is flapping ears and wagging tongues but I’m loaded. Some might say filthy rich”
“You got a lot of talk sharp-shooter, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean you can walk the walk now does it?”
I can as long as this duct tape does its job.
“Sure I can walk the walk”
“Well I guess I’ll just have to give you the benefit of the doubt then but, I must warn you, I hate being disappointed. By the way, what happened to your left ear?”
“I…erm…lost it while deep-sea fishing in Phuket”
“And how does one manage that?”
Do they have great whites in Phuket? Never mind, I’d better not risk it.
“It was a…erm…carnivorous salmon. Leapt straight out of the drink and took it clean off in one chomp”
“Must have been awful”
“The salmon came off worse. You see, I had an ear infection at the time. Floated to the surface five minutes later with my ear still clenched between its teeth. Unfortunately there was no needle and thread on board to reattach it”
“I think I’ve heard enough”
“Too grisly?”
“No just boredom. So tell me sea dog, what do you think of my catfish?”
“Looks just about ready for feeding time”
“She is. So what do you say we adjourn to these cozy coordinates of yours and become a little better acquainted?”
“Well it’s a hearty yes from me”
My plan has worked delightfully and it would appear that I have Brandy just where I wanted and with the bare minimum of fuss no less. I do hope she bought my carnivorous salmon story, it was the best I could come up with at short notice and certainly sounds plausible enough. Crazy place that Phuket. At any rate, this spot looks suitably secluded and away from any prying eyes or potential whistle-blowers. When the moment comes I shall put her down swiftly, drag her body out to the dumpster for disposal, and be back inside before Chardonnay emerges from her dressing room. The last thing I need right now is double the trouble and something tells me this particular tag team would cause me no end of mischief. One hooker at a time is manageable enough and, for all of Brandy’s deftness around the pole, doesn’t mean she can dodge a close-range bullet when travelling at almost 2,000 mph. If she does then I’ll stand corrected like that one Christmas party when I gargled too much paint thinner and tried on Mrs. Jessup’s orthopedic clogs. No I reckon I’ve got this you know, while I’ve learned from my numerous mistakes en route to nailing nine of the dirty dozen, each victory has taught me a thing or two about how much “the balls” Nick McGovern is and, I have to say, I’m inclined to agree.
That said, I’m not about to take her for granted either. One doesn’t amass a reputation like Brandy’s without first putting in some legwork and I’m under no illusion that she won’t snuff me out in a heartbeat if my deception comes to light. Right now she doesn’t know my name and I’m more than content to keep things less personal this time as it leaves less room for blunder and more for having my gonads sucked like gobstoppers. I mean, that’s what I’m here for right? Of course not and whatever am I thinking? The chief’s implicit instruction was to “shoot those hookers” and I must not stray from my objective, no matter how far back her jaw can lock. I need to put her out of commission faster than Oscar Pistorius can flee a crime scene and, if it all goes without a hitch, then I’d imagine her identical twin can perform the very same trick.
Speaking of which, I can’t leave without snapping Chardonnay’s incriminating groin mole as it’s apparently the only way of telling them apart and I don’t want the chief disqualifying me because I shot the same hooker twice. I’d hate for a such a minor technicality to stand in the way of me and that much deserved promotion. Considering Meryl is likely already setting divorce proceedings in motion, something tells me I’ll be needing all the additional cash flow I can get. First things first, its time to put this rabid mutt down before I catch something irreversible. Having your Achilles Tendon slashed sucks two donkey balls, having your left ear shot off sucks another two, and being repeatedly stabbed in the shoulder-blade with a switch blade delivers us to the donkey ball half-dozen. Contracting gonorrhea at this point may well push me over the edge and I’m guessing that Brandy’s taco is like a petri dish for bacteria so I’d better be keeping my distance.
“We’re not going to achieve much with you all the way over there now are we?”
“I just figured we might get to know one another a little better first”
“Not to be pedantic but you had your nose in my asshole just five minutes ago”
“I know and I’d just like to dial it back a little”
“Dial it back? Do you have any concept of where you are right now? Do I look like the kind of girl who skims stones by the lake every Sunday after communion?”
“But I even went to the trouble of requesting the DJ play us a slow jam just to set the mood”
“You’ll have to excuse me. I just threw up a little in my throat”
“Whatever happened to romance?”
“I’m sure it’s alive and well. Just not at The Stiff Russian. Now are we going to fuck or what?”
“Can we not just call it making love?”
“Oh my giddy aunt. Is this guy for real? Somebody shoot me please”
I’d be careful what you wish for Brandy as you might just get it. Hold on, it looks like the DJ has an announcement to make.
“Okay you randy little gropers, five minutes and Chardonnay will be performing those personal services in our V.I.P. lounge. First up, here’s a dedication for none other than our very own Brandy from Desk Sergeant Nick McGovern”
I distinctly remember asking for Miami Vice dagnabbit. And why is Brandy reaching into her clutch bag for what appears to be a firearm? Moreover, where did that clutch bag even come from? Never mind, I think I have a fair idea. Damn, that thing is like Dr. Who’s Tardis.
“You’ve got some explaining to do Nick and I’d make it snappy if I were you”
“You’ve got me. I’m here under direct instruction to shoot you”
“Shoot me? And what made you think I’d let you close enough to commit such an act?”
“Well you seemed up for it a moment ago”
“I found your little Phuket anecdote amusing. But you missed your chance Nick and now it is you who will taste steel. Dammit, is this thing jammed?”
I knew it. While it may have seemed inspired to store her weapon inside her vagina, it would appear that all that spunk has gone funked up the trigger mechanism and this, I do believe, is the perfect opportunity to strike. You may be able to do the splits Brandy but can you hold your skull together with a bullet sifting through it on a one-way trek to that exit wound? The answer you’re looking for is no and, after some outrageous flirting on your part and a fair share of reluctance on mine, I now pronounce it time for you to say hello to my little friend. And guess what? It ain’t my Johnson. Sayonara slag!
Now that’s how Nick McGovern’s rolling tonight and I don’t require an abacus to tell me that I just bagged myself number ten on my hit list. You’re damn right I just made double figures and why stop there when number eleven is also in the vicinity? Before my trigger finger goes getting all itchy again, I suppose I’d better dispose of Brandy’s corpse before someone becomes wise to my treachery. The dumpster seems like a fitting sarcophagus for one so lacking in moral fiber and there is no time for emotional send offs as it has been suggested that twins can tell when their carbon copies have bitten the bullet. Some kind of telepathic understanding apparently and that’s a pretty good reason to be getting that wriggle on pronto. I’ve come way too far to grow complacent now when the finish line is clearly within sight. Time for that lap dance methinks.
So this is the V.I.P. lounge then and, right on cue, Chardonnay has just emerged from her dressing room. Is it just me or does she appear a tad pre-disposed? Shit truffles, maybe she knows. Perhaps it’s true what they say about twins after all, I just figured it was mumbo jumbo. It would be wise to proceed with caution as I may not be so fortunate second time out, especially when she puts two and two together and comes up with Nick McGovern. And I was really looking forward to that lap dance too. After a hard day shooting hookers, it seemed like the ideal way to wind down, and there are far worse places to leave yourself than in the hands of a trained professional. Alas, I just cannot take the risk, and will have to assassinate the bitch the moment she slips between my cross hairs.
Hold on a cotton-picking minute, the incriminating groin mole, I cannot leave until I can prove beyond reasonable doubt that I took out both hard targets. Fortunately for me it appears as though someone has beaten me to the punch and is about to receive one of Chardonnay’s intimate waltzes. I guess there’s no harm or foul in spying on from an unseen vantage, at least until the panties drop. But the very second those babies reach half mast, it’s whack-a-mole time baby.
I’m now starting to regret making those rum and cokes doubles as my aim has felt steadier and the last thing I need at this present moment is a civilian casualty to explain to the chief. Moreover, this cat seems to be a real high roller, clearly a man of great wealth, and if there’s one thing countless pots of gold will buy you, then a decent attorney would be it. One error of judgement or misplaced shot and I’ll no doubt be staring down the barrel of a long drawn out court case and something tells me the chief will be washing his hands of me the moment the first charges are pressed. Honestly I don’t know why I do this job sometimes. It’s thankless I tell you, thankless.
Actually at this present moment it ain’t so bad. You see, Chardonnay has decided to forego the bra and head straight for the all-important money shot. The anticipation is killing me and it’s hard to get a decent look at that mole from such an awkward angle when she keeps on wiggling those hips. Hold on, there it is. Now if only I had a clean shot I’d be eleven to the good and all set to topple the dirty dozen once-and-for-all. I could take my shot but it just seems too risky as I can’t guarantee I won’t hit the punter with a ricochet. Fuck it, sometimes you just have to trust your God given marksman skills, and take the shot while it’s there. They’ve barely steered me wrong thus far so this should be like snatching candy from a baby or dipping into your six-year-old daughter’s college fund unbeknownst to her. Do it Nick, shoot to thrill and bag the team that kill.
Okay so that could have gone better. While the bullet passed straight through Chardonnay’s chest, causing her heart to explode and killing her almost instantaneously, those ricochets really are a wretched nuisance are they not? Worse still, having just checked our innocent bystander’s identification, it would appear that he may have been a member of congress. Have you ever done one of those farts that instantly transforms into explosive diarrhea the very moment you unclench? This is a calamitous turn of events which I’m guessing will likely cost the department millions. Any thoughts of promotion are straight out of the window as, when the chief hears of this, he’ll likely throw the book at me and make sure I never work in this city again. Sounds harsh right? I mean, eleven dead hookers, and it’s all undone by one tiny little boo-boo that really could have happened to anyone. Well that’s just the business I’m in; one stray ricochet is all it takes to go from hero to zero and there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it.
So what do I do now? Do I shuffle back to the precinct with my tail tucked between my legs and accept my punishment like the chimp that I am? Do I assume position on the chief’s knee and prepare to be soundly and savagely spanked? Do I show him my shiny new vagina like a post-op tranny? Do I fuck and shame on you for expecting as much. You see, nothing whatsoever has changed in my eyes, I’ve still managed to terminate all but one of my hard targets and simply can’t give up now when I’m so agonizingly close to completing my brief. That’s not how Nick McGovern cuts his mustard as, the last time I checked, I still have my pride around here somewhere dagnabbit and will be double damned if I’m gonna go out like a punk ass bitch on heat. Thus the game is still very much on and it is time for me to enter the final round of negotiations. Of course, this proposes to be anything but easy, as my final mark is reported to be the most dangerous of them all and looks set to give me one helluva hustle for my currency. By now however, you should be more than aware that I like me a challenge.
Now this bitch is serious. Anastasia sits at the very top of the tree and has been linked to virtually every unsolved crime in state over the past twelve months. Despite this, there seems no way of pinning the tail on this particular donkey, as she is crazily well-connected, possesses mad smarts, and has a canny knack of remaining one step ahead of the competition at all times. Needless to say I’ll be approaching with extreme caution but this is unlikely to be enough where Anastasia is concerned as she is absolutely nobody’s fool and will think nothing of putting a bullet in my skull just because she likes the way it ties my face together. Am I scared? Come now, Nick McGovern doesn’t do fear, and it will take more than some manky street mutt to prise out a gift-wrapped dread nugget. That said, I’m as fearful as all hell, and I hear that’s just another word for blind terror so, if that makes me a shrinking violet, then I guess I ain’t the big man you all thought I was. Sorry to disappoint you but my whole world is falling apart at the seams right now and Anastasia has the tools at her disposal to finalize the deal. But I came here to quash the dirty dozen and will not rest until I’ve done so or damn well die trying. This is what it’s all about cadets – taking that shot regardless of circumstance, standing up and being counted, becoming the man you know you are and convincing the entire free world of your identity. I’m therefore ready for the big bust and the come what may that accompanies it. I’ll be seeing you on the battlefield fellow troopers.
Click here to read The Big Bust
Truly, Really, Clearly, Sincerely,
Richard Charles Stevens
aka
Keeper of the Crimson Quill
Copyright: Grueheads Films 2017
