WEDDING OF MY EX (episode 17)
THE GENTLEMEN’S PERK NIGHTCLUB
Afful turns into a wide driveway, and is stopped by three gun-wielding guards.
Afful winds down the window and pokes out his head. The guards recognize him instantly gestures to him to drive through.
They park the car and get out. Chris looks around; his face looks pained.
This way, Romeo. I took great pains to become a member just for this day. I tell you this; it is mighty expensive being a gold card member of this club.
Chris looks shocked. Afful takes him through gl@ss sliding doors, down a big lighted corridor filled with well-dressed people.
He leads him to a door marked PRIVATE, manned by two of the biggest muscle-bound men Chris has ever seen.
They are in black suits and sungl@sses. Afful produces a membership card.
No need for that, Sir. We need to see your friend’s card!
Oh, he’s a special invite. I’m introducing him so … free p@ss!
The men do not smile, but again the other one who has not spoken steps forward and gives Chris a thorough check.
They let them through and enter a large, dimly-lit room filled with a lot of men.
Look at the great and mighty people queuing to watch s£× shows and nude ladies. They are decadent souls, aren’t they?
Chris does not speak. He watches as approaches a ticketing window and comes back with two p@sses.
This is very expensive, man. You can’t believe just how much I paid to watch Sighing Sparrow. Oh, forgive me, that’s Effe’s stage name. Here, take a look at your p@ss.
With trembling hands Chris looks at his p@ss. It is a p@ss for a one hour show with Sighing Sparrow and friends.
And below the lettering, is a bust portrait of Effe. She looks beautiful and exotic, and she is n@k£d to her shoulders; the tops of her br£@sts are also n@k£d.
Chris trembles violently. He speaks in a totally dejected voice.
Oh, God, no!
Chris is directed through a gl@ss door to a dimly-lit private viewing room.
There are high comfortable stools with back-rests and arced gl@ss-topped tables.
Young women barely out of their teens and wearing air-hostess caps, short white skirts with matching long boots and skimpy bras walk from table to table, offering drinks.
There are a lot of viewing rooms, some replete with beds, housing the filthy rich who can afford a bed and a mate. The amount of screwing that goes on here cannot be matched by the Hollywood p®rn industry.
Chris notices that there is a performing stage, which is lighted and which now shows a very buxom white lady performing a striptease.
She is wearing only a pink G-String, and making lewd pumping actions with her crotch towards the men.
Mind you, the girls here are paid well. Effe is making a lot of…
(voice is vicious and filled with murder.)
One more mention of Effe’s name and I’ll kill you, Afful!
The white lady eventually peels her p@nties down her legs in a s£×y way, and kicks it into the audience.
Now n@k£d, she struts on the platform, gyrating her hips and pres£nting her privates to the ogling men.
She walks off the stage to loud applause and lewd remarks.
The lights dim, and when they come back on Afful speaks excitedly.
Yeah, man, that’s my favorite girl! Sighing Sparrow in the flesh!
Chris bolts upright, and screams silently. His face contorts into ugly lines of deep pain.
Effe is on the stage. Her face is nicely made-up. She looks really stunning. She is wearing white p@nties and a matchng white br@ssiere.
On her head is a white cowboy hat, and her feet are adorned with white knee-length high-heeled boots.
Her l!ps are painted red, and she is doing a very s£×y dance, gyrating her body in a lvstful fashion and winding her behind in a most captivating way.
The men peel off Cedi notes and throw them unto the stage. It seems that Effe is a very popular performer.
Her hat comes off first, and this she throws into the crowd.
She continues to dance, and now she turns her back to the crowd and opens her br@ssiere hooks, and takes it off.
Still gyrating, she looks over her shoulder at the engrossed men, and then she turns slowly, her hands covering her lovely br£@sts.
She steps forward, bows, and suddenly her hands drop, and there she stands, exposing her br£@sts.
(in a whisper of agony.)
No, oh dear sweet Lord, Effe, oh no!
He jumps up and runs towards the stage.
Chris, no, stop! Don’t do that!
He tries to hold Chris back, but Chris chops him across the throat with the edge of his open right palm and Afful falls down, gagging for air.
Chris is pushing people out of his way and running across the tables, s£nding plates, gl@sses and bottles flying.
People are screaming. Some try to stop him, but he punches them away.
On the stage Effe has kicked off her boots and her thumbs are now hooked into the straps of her G-String, ready to pull it down.
She is now fixed, staring with horror at Chris charging down towards her.
She covers her br£@sts, and then she turns and runs towards a door at the back of the stage. Chris lets out a fearsome yell.
Effeeee! Don’t run, you snake! I’m gonna kill you!
Somebody grabs a wine bottle and attempts to brain Chris, but it misses his head and smashes painfully into his shoulder.
With a yell of fury Chris turns and slams a fist into the man’s face, the man screams.
Chris jumps unto the stage. Effe is almost at the door.
Efffeeeee! Stop right there!
Chris runs after her, but suddenly two muscle-bound men in black tuxedos emerge from the door and bear down on Chris.
Two more bouncers climbed in from behind him
One lunges at Chris, catching him behind the knees and bringing him down h@rd unto the h@rd stage.
In a flash they are on him, raining h@rd b!0ws on him. Chris can hear Effe’s shrill screams.
No! Don’t hurt him! Stop it, please! Don’t hurt him!
Chris is aware of being lifted off the stage, and his phone falls down though he does not notice.
He does not struggle. They carry him out of the nightclub and hurl him into the air, and he falls down h@rd on the concrete.
He gr0@ns, and tastes blood in his mouth.
You keep outta this place. You show your ugly mug here again, we will stomp all over you, @sshole!
Chris struggles to a sitting position. He realizes that they have brought him to the car park, and thrown him against his own car.
A shadow crosses his vision, and looks up warily. It is Afful. He is holding his throat where Chris has chopped him.
(speaking with pain.)
I guess our business is done, Romeo. I hope you realize now that getting me fired wasn’t worth it because your girl, the angel you thought you had, is nothing but a devil to the core. Taking the wool off your eyes has been physically painful to me, yeah, with all your damn karate stuff. But, man oh man, am I glad! That whore does not love you. She’s in it for the money, and now that you’ve caught her, I guess she will now elope with Bright, her childhood lover. Bye, Romeo, you shithead!
With that Jonathan Afful turns and walks away. Chris painfully gets into his car and drives off.
He stops the car after a while, and puts his forehead on the steering-wheel and cries his heart out. After a while he looks for his phone to call Steve, but he cannot find it. It is lost.
He is bleeding from his nose and from a cut in his scalp. He drives to Dr. Anaman’s clinic to have his wounds treated. He tells the doctor that he was in a fight with some thu gs.
When he leaves the clinic he drives around aimlessly for a while.
Finally he heads home.
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