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A Good Idea At The Time
A "Take Your Pick-Axe" Honorable Mention
Option Cby
Ross Hamilton
It seemed like a good idea at the time. The sort of idea that sounds brilliant when you’ve had plenty to drink. And we were as jober as sudges.
“Hey – lets go to a strip club,” Manny suggested.
“Yeah OK,” I agreed. “What one?”
“Francesco’s – it’s freaky wild man,” Manny gushed.
I had no idea how wild it would turn out to be.
We staggered off to a cab, and convinced the driver that we weren’t going to throw up in his vehicle.
Francesco’s turned out to be way on the other side of town. As the journey progressed, we seemed to be disappearing into a maze of warehouses and small factories.
I began to worry a bit, but then that’s just me. I’ve been known to worry about whether the refrigerator light remembers to turn itself off once the door closes.
What sort of location is this for a club? I wondered.
“Hey buddy,” I asked the driver. “How far is it to this place?”
“Just around the corner pal,” he replied.
Sure enough around the very next corner, there it was. A jet-black colored building. Stygian black. It was the sort of black that makes regular black want to crawl away under a rock for being too pale.
A bright red sign hung over the door. Francesco’s it screamed with neon fury.
“Pay the man Ricky babe,” Manny told me. Typical Manny – drag me off somewhere and then get me to pay these little incidentals. As I fumbled with my wallet, Manny reached across and grabbed a twenty from me.
“Keep the change,” he said told the driver as he generously gave my money away.
“What sort of place is this for a club?” I asked Manny as the cab quickly disappeared into the night. “Who builds a club way out here?”
“Relax man – I’ve been here before – it’s great,” Manny reassured me.
There was a bouncer at the door. Except that bouncers are usually big bastards, with bulging muscles instead of brains. This guy was practically a midget – sorry – that should probably have been something like height impaired. Sure, he was built heavy enough for a little guy, but hell – he was a midget! Hard to see him throwing rowdy drunks out.
Manny nodded at the little guy, who gave a short nod of recognition back.
“So you’ve been here before then?” I asked Manny.
“Yeah – I told ya – it’s freaky wild.”
“What’s with the little guy out front?"
Manny turned serious for a moment.
“Don’t mess with him man. Whatever you do, don’t mess with him.”
“Gimme a break – he’s a midget!”
“Trust me man – just don’t mess with him – ever!”
It was dark as hell inside. We had to practically feel our way forward until we reached the edge of the light spilling from the stage. The light glistened on the poles on stage that were no doubt used for artistic purposes.
We found a table right by the stage edge.
A waitress came around to take our drinks order. She was stunning! I managed to intelligently stammer out “b-b-beer.”
Manny’s elbow hit me in the ribs. “Hey – stop drooling. There’s better than her in here.”I looked around the room while we waited for our drinks. My eyes were adjusting to the gloom now, and I could make out some of the other patrons. There was something strange about them.
That one over there – his skin looks green! This one opposite us – ears shouldn’t be that big and pointy. My god – the huge one next to us – he’s so hideous I think I’m going to hurl!
“What sort of place is this?” I hissed at Manny.
“Relax man – I told you – it’s freaky, but it’s cool.”
My heart leaped – our waitress was back with the beers. I looked at her adoringly. The view was even better when she leaned forward to place the glasses down in front of us. I think my eyes almost popped out of my head into that magnificent cleavage.
“Would you like some Francesco’s Fiscals?” she asked.
“Huh?” I can be so witty sometimes.
“Yeah – give us twenty each,” Manny replied for both of us.
“That’ll be fifty each gents,” she-of-the-magnificent-bosom replied.
I pulled out a fifty and handed it over and she gave me twenty pieces of fancily printed paper in return. The penny dropped – these were pretend bucks to make the dancers fall irresistibly in love with me when I slipped them into their g-strings.
All the other patrons that I could see also had Francesco’s Fiscals. Except for the hideous huge one next to us. His hands were strangely empty. While I watched, he lifted up a bag and dropped it on the table in front of him. It was obviously heavy by the thud it made on the tabletop.
What’s that? I wondered. What sort of freak brings a bag to a strip club?
The hideous one reached into the bag and pulled out a fistful of something. A shiny something.
Music suddenly began to thump loudly, snapping my attention to the stage. The show was beginning.
Manny was right about one thing – the dancer that came out made the waitress look like a toothless old hag who had been badly beaten with an ugly stick.
A small set of pointed red horns poked up out of her hair. A black silk cloak was wrapped tightly around her but failed to hide her voluptuous figure. A set of legs to die for, danced beneath the robe’s hem. A surprisingly realistic looking tail poked out from the cloak’s rear. Talk about the original horny little devil!
The crowd roared as she danced her way out. She threw open the cloak to reveal an outfit made of enough filmy material that could almost make a small handkerchief. The cloak was whipped off her shoulders. The crowd roared its approval louder. Manny was stamping his feet and whistling madly. I joined in. Man, she was HOT!
The dancer gyrated wildly. She caught up the tail in her hands and caressed it suggestively. It twitched in her grasp.
How do they make it do that, I wondered.
She released the tail and it dropped down behind her once more – and twitched like an irritable cat.
I stopped cheering and stared in disbelief.
Oh my god – the tail’s real!
The dancer turned her back to us as she bestowed her attentions on the pointed eared one opposite us. The almost impossibly small bra was unclipped and dropped away from her chest with tantalizing slowness until she whipped it away to bare her assets. With a flick of her wrist, the bra was draped over the pointy-eared one’s head. He threw back his head and let out a high pitched, yipping cry of delight.
“Bloody vamps,” Manny shouted in my ear. “Can’t take them anywhere.”
Vamps…vamps…
Vampire? I mouthed at Manny. He grinned and nodded.
What the hell has he got me into this time?
The dancers fixed her eye on me and danced over in my direction. She opened her mouth and a horribly red tongue flicked over her lips and revealed pointed teeth.
Aghast, I nudged Manny, pointed at her and mouthed the question – vampire?
“Nah,” Manny shouted. “She’s a demon – bloody hot one too.”
Vampires and demons – oh shit what are we doing here?
The demon dancer gyrated herself right out of her tiny g-string and tossed it at me. To my horror it landed right on my face.
The crowd roared louder still. Someone threw a fistful of Francesco’s Fiscals onto the stage. More followed with Manny joining in.
The hideous one next to us stood up.
“Troll,” Manny mouthed at me.
Troll? TROLL??
The troll lifted up the shining things in his hand. That’s when I realized that they were silver dollars.
Oh shit – he’s going to throw them at her!
Sure enough, that’s what he did – threw a handful of silver dollars straight at her. It would be bad enough if a man threw a handful of heavy metal coins at someone else, but when a troll with arms the size of tree trunks does it, that’s a different matter entirely.
The impact of the coins threw the dancer off her feet and flat on her back. Blood began to run from her forehead where a single coin was deeply embedded. Her pointed tail quivered madly, and then stilled.
Absolute chaos broke out. It was as if the presumably accidental killing of the dancer was a signal for a riot to start.
The vampire opposite us grabbed someone and ripped their throat open with one horrible bite. Chairs, glasses and bottles flew through the air, to crunch against heads and bodies. Voices screamed. Tables and chairs shattered.
verywhere I looked, blood was being splashed around.
The house lights suddenly snapped on. In the bright light, I could see all and realization dawned.
We’re the only normal people in here! Oh shit – that has to be a werewolf. And I don’t want to know what it’s fighting.
“Manny,” I screamed in terror as I dived under our table. But the idiot was sitting there, laughing his head off at the sight of nightmare creatures tearing each other apart.
At that moment I saw the little bouncer appear at the door.
“Get back you idiot,” I screamed at him, even though I knew that he could never hear me above all the noise.
An arm, detached from its owner, hit the floor beside me, spattering my face with blood. I curled up tighter, desperately trying to hide.
A shrill scream sounded above the rest of the bedlam. I looked up to see the little bouncer with his head back, screaming and pounding his chest like a demented gorilla. He reached into an alcove by the door and pulled out a pickaxe of all things.
Like an economy-sized Viking, the bouncer started wielding the pick like a battle-axe – sweeping it from side to side, up and down.
The pointed end of the pick tore gaping wounds wherever it struck, tearing flesh and smashing bones.
I watched in horrified fascination. The short-ass was tearing everyone apart! Then I realized he was coming in our direction.
Just what I need – a pick axe-wielding homicidal maniac to really round the evening out!
The bouncer reached the troll, which was now standing on the table next to us. A sweep of the pick knocked the troll’s feet out from under it, spilling it down onto the floor.
The diminutive bouncer stood above the fallen troll, the pickaxe held high.
“How many times do I have to tell you – no accidentally killing the dancers!” he screamed.
The pick swept down, smashing the troll’s head. Brains and more blood splashed over my face and I gagged at the taste.
The troll’s clenched fist relaxed in death. Another silver dollar fell from his hand and rolled across the floor.
Leaping up onto the stage, the bouncer began shouting, brandishing the pickaxe above his head.
“Shaddup you bastards! Siddown! Shaddup!!”
To my amazement the monsters didn’t just listen to him, they did what he said. Almost guiltily they stopped tearing and gouging. Instead they picked up the overturned chairs and tables and sat down.
“I told you not to mess with him – that’s one bad tempered dwarf,” said Manny.
A dwarf – an honest to goodness dwarf! But I couldn’t see this one singing the Hi Ho song.
I dragged myself out from under the table, to find Manny dangling the dancer’s g-string from a finger.
“That’s mine,” I snapped and snatched it back off him. “What the hell have you dragged me into?”
“Told ya it’s a freaky wild place,” Manny said with an infuriating grin.
I thumped him.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
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© Hamilton, 2006