
(This is part of the “Drama McHourglass” story cycle and is a sequel to Nights Of Wine And Ponies. This is a work of, um, fiction. Any trademarks which appear in this story are used in a fictional context. Close cover before striking — JB)
Some time ago, I convinced Vodka McBigbra to watch one of my favorite movies — “The Mack”, starring Max Julien and Richard Pryor. As I watched “Goldie” drive his “hog” (another way to say “pimped-out Eldorado” down the streets, resplendent in fur coat, matching hat, and with his sword cane by his side, I said to V. McB, “I could totally be an awesome pimp.” Vodka, veteran of the Las Vegas stage and a woman who was fully aware of how modern pimps operate (Warning: the link WILL GET YOU FIRED FROM YOUR JOB) responded with a combination of anger and disdain.
“Pimps aren’t funny, dressed-up guys in Cadillacs,” she snarled. “They are terrible, terrible people. You could never be a pimp. You… well, you…”
“I get the point,” I responded, “I’m no pimp. But Pretty Tony is about to pull out his sword cane so I need to focus on the movie.” Little did I know that one day I would have a chance to test the truth of her assertion.
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