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"Hey, girls, did you hear about the Ape man?" "The who?" "The Ape man, Bambi Bird-brain; you know." "She mean Harry Gibbon." "Oh, yeah, Harry. I know Harry. He gimme a twenty-dollar bill once." "Well, he won't be givin' you no more." "Why not, Caroline?" "He croaked, that's why." "Huh?" "Hung himself last night, outside his apartment" "Who say Harry hung hisself?" "Jimmy." "Jimmy? An' you believe dat mutha?" "He overheard the guys that called it in." "Was Harry into drugs or somethin', Caroline?" "Ask Spook face." "Was he, Helene?" "Uh huh." "But ain't Jimmy a narc." "He only heard it, stupid; he wasn't there." "Oh." "That's not all." Linda enters, harvesting cash from her g-string. "What's up?" "The Ape man hung himself last night from his fire escape." "Oh, yuk!" "And the cops found all this kinky stuff inside his room." "Oooo, Caroline, you didn't tell us that part. Like what?" "Like rubber pussies an'..." "Okay, shut yo' mouff up. Harry lonely, dat all." "Did he ever ask you out, Helene? He asked me." "Harry Gibbon asked everybody out; big deal." "You can shut yo' mouff up, too, Miss Water-Wing Implant." "Stop callin' me that!" "The man 's dade; don' be pissin' on 'im." With that, Helene glides out. Caroline, pulling a face, plops down and shrugs. "What's with her; did she put out for Harry?" Linda blithely counts her dollar bills. "I wouldn't doubt it; she'd go down on Rin Tin Tin." Bambi looks perplexed. "Who's that?" Caroline farts aloud, then condescends to answer. "A dog, you dolt."
Her nipples daubed with cold-cream, Helene incites a stir.
Helene awaits her second number; it cues up in the juke; the needle finds its groove. The loudspeakers hiss.
Lumps are swelling down pant-legs, in response to Helene's exertions. Tip to toe, her swarthy features gleam. Record three in place, the ruckus recommences.
Helene's damp loins are garnished with a leafy wreath of bills. One last shimmy of her double-bubble butt, and she sidles from the stage.
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