"Fuck Christmas," Clover shouted, "and fuck you, Tony. Fuck Santa Claus, fuck his elves and fuck all ten goddamn reindeers."
"Eight," Roxanne said, filing her nails and looking at her over the top of her glasses.
"Shut up, Roxy, I'm talking about reindeers, not how many cocks you sucked over the weekend."
"Clover, calm down," Tony said, "It was worth taking a shot."
"Bullshit, I told you nobody goes to a strip club on Christmas Eve."
"She did tell you," Roxanne said, "Even louder that she's telling you now."
"Look," he said, shrugging, "I'm sorry, but it wasn't nobody..."
"We've had five customers," Clover said.
"And the last one was two hours ago," Roxanne chimed in, "It's almost ten thirty."
Clover jerked her thumb at Roxanne. "She might look like a doofus wearing that stupid Santa hat, but she's right."
Tony held up his hands, "Okay, it turned out to not be a great idea. You guys are always saying that more customers come in because they are lonely than because they are horny. I figured it would be a lonely night for a lot of guys..."
"It might be a great night to be a hooker," Clover said, "but not a dancer."
He looked at his watch, then over his shoulder at LeAnn, the bartender. "Tell you what," he told her, "If nobody else comes in before eleven, go ahead and close up."
He started to walk away, but Roxanne called him back. "We paid our club fees, Tony, that isn't right."
He looked up toward the ceiling, as if he were looking for a script to read from. "You want to close and go home early, but you want your club fees refunded because I said we would close and you could go home early?"
"No," Clover said, "We want our club fees refunded because we paid you fifty dollars to dance on a night when you dragged us in here to dance, even though we told you nobody was coming the fuck in."
"Fine," he said, throwing his hands in the air, "LeAnn, give them back their club fees."
Roxanne stood up. "I'll go tell Amberlee."
"Where is she anyway?" LeAnn asked.
"Back in the dressing room."
Clover sat down on a barstool. "She probably fell asleep."
Tony came back out of his office, wearing his coat and hat.
"Hey, Tony," Clover told him, "I just saw tomorrow's Wall Street Journal. The headline says Shitty Ass Strip Joint Goes Broke After Hundred And Fifty Dollar Loss."
"Sometimes I wonder why I don't fire you, Charlene."
"Because you just manage the Gold Dollar, your dad owns it, and he loves my big fat ass."
"Merry Christmas, Tony," LeAnn called after him as he walked out, holding up his middle finger in Clover's direction.
"Yeah, Merry Christmas, Tony," Clover hollered as he went out the door, "Enjoy it, it's probably the last one before your kids decide they don't want to spend them with you."
"That one maybe went too far," LeAnn said.
Roxanne came back and sat on the next stool.
"What's Amberlee doing?" LeAnn asked.
"She was watching Elf on her iPad, now she's getting dressed as fast as she can, in case Tony changes his mind."
"He already left," LeAnn said.
"Oh, so he doesn't have to wait until eleven o'clock..."
"I liked that movie, Elf," Clover said. She nudged Roxanne with her elbow. "You kind of look like the girl that he falls in love with, Zoey DeWhatshername."
"You kind of look like Ed Asner."
"That midget guy from Game Of Thrones was in it. Is it weird that I think he's kind of sexy?"
"Peter Dinklage?" Roxanne said, "I'd fuck him."
"You know what sucks? All the kids in school probably called him Dinky."
"What did they call you?"
Clover was silent for a moment, then said, "Big Bird." When Roxanne didn't respond, she asked, "Ain't you got some smartass remark?"
"Nope, I'm not as mean as you."
"Yes, you are, you are just sneaky about it."
"It only seems that way because I'm so much smarter than you."
"What about you? What did they call you in high school?"
"Rhonda."
"Fuck you, that's your name. What about a nickname?"
"Some of my friends called me Ronnie."
"See that's what I'm talking about. That's sneaky mean the way you played that."
The door opened, and they both groaned, but it was not a customer. Sporty, the Gold Dollar's bouncer, came in.
"Speaking of guys you'll fuck," Clover muttered.
When he approached the bar, she said, "Hey Sporty, how come you go out with Roxy? I always heard black guys like girls with nice big asses."
"I always heard strippers were friendly," he shot back.
He sat down next to Roxanne.
"Where have you been?" she asked him.
"Yeah," Clover said, "There could have been a brawl in here, between the rats and the cockroaches."
"I was sitting out in my car, listening to some jams."
"I thought maybe you were standing in front of the joint ringing a Salvation Army bell," Clover said.
Sporty ignored her and put a hand on Roxanne's shoulder. "Listen, babe," he said, "We gotta talk about this."
"We talked about it ten times already," she said.
"Yeah, because it's important."
"We can talk later."
Sporty went behind the bar, took a bottle of Bud from the cooler and twisted off the cap.
"Hey, Sporty, how many reindeer does Santa have?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
"You heard the song your whole fucking life, right?"
"It's not about the Rudolph song," Roxanne said, "The right number is the ones named in The Night Before Christmas, which is eight."
"Plus Rudolph," Clover insisted. "LeAnn, tell her."
"I have no opinion," LeAnn said, turning away.
"Even if Rudolph counts, which he doesn't, that makes nine. You said ten."
"That was in a moment of passion."
"Let me ask you a question," Sporty said, "How do you know he don't have, like, a hundred reindeer and uses different ones every year?"
"That's just nuts," Clover said, shaking her head.
The door opened again, and a portly middle aged man came in, shaking the rain from his coat sleeves. He looked at the group at the bar, smiled, and said, "Not a fit night out for man nor beast."
"Which one are you?" Clover muttered.
Roxanne looked at LeAnn.
"It's ten to eleven," LeAnn said with a shrug. She turned to the customer. "What can we do for you, dear, we will be closing soon."
"Oh, heck," he said, "I was hoping to have a few drinks and maybe a dance."
Clover tilted her head close to Roxanne's. "How bad do you want to get the fuck out of here?" she asked.
"Pretty goddamn bad."
Clover leaned against the bar and squeezed her elbows close to her sides, pushing her large breasts higher.
"Hey honey," she said sweetly, "Maybe you'd be interested in our holiday special."
He smiled eagerly. "Maybe. What is it?"
Pointing back and forth between herself and Roxanne, she said, "Skip the drinks and get a two girl dance, only fifty dollars."
His eyes grew large. "That sounds great," he said.
"Alright, let's go," she replied, rising off the stool. She started back toward the private rooms, then turned and crooked her finger at him seductively.
"We'll talk later," Roxanne told Sporty. As the customer passed her, she hopped off her stool and took his hand.
Amberlee came out of the dressing room in her street clothes and coat. When she saw them coming in her direction, she muttered, "Better you than me, ladies."
Clover opened the door to the first private room. "Right in her, honey," she said.
When the customer stepped inside, she leaned close to Roxanne. "Who's dancing, you or me?"
"It was your idea, you do the dirty work."
"Fair enough," Clover said, sighing.
Three in the room was a tight fit. "What's your name, honey?" Roxanne asked.
"Frank."
"Alright, Frank, well you just sit and relax and we'll show you a great time, okay?"
"Sounds good to me," he said, shifting anxiously in his seat.
Roxanne waited a moment, until the music paused and a new song started up.
"Goddamn it," Clover moaned as the sound system burst forth with a choir singing Oh Come All Ye Faithful.
"That's Sporty fucking around," Roxanne said.
"I don't mind," Frank shrugged.
"Fine, then," She began to dance, as seductively as she could, to the Christmas carol.
Clover squeezed in next to the chair, and squatted down, leaning close to Frank. There was already a prominent tent in the front of his pants. She stroked his chest and said, "It's okay if you want to take it out."
"Really?" he said, looking at her in surprise, "I thought that wasn't allowed."
"It's the Christmas special," she said.
He hastily dug his cock out of his pants. Roxanne turned and bent over. The white ball on her hat bounced as she twerked her ass only inches from his face.
Clover wrapped her hand around his shaft and stroked it.
"Look at that tight little ass," she murmured in his ear, "Can you imagine shoving your big cock into it?"
"Mmm, yeah," he moaned. She stroked harder and he grew more agitated. Roxanne balanced over his lap with one knee on each arm of the chair.
"Show him your pussy," Clover said.
Roxanne hooked her thumbs in the sides of her thong and pulled it away from her body. Frank craned his neck to take a look, while Clover cooed, "Oh, wouldn't it feel so good to fuck that wet pussy?"
Frank let out a long jagged breath, and a stream of pearly liquid flowed from his cock and down over Clover's hand.
Roxanne stepped down off the chair, pulled a handful of tissues from the dispenser and handed some to each of them. "Merry Christmas, Frank," she said.
"Oh yeah, Merry Christmas," he wheezed. He wiped himself off, dropped the tissues in a small wastebasket Clover held up for him, and put his cock back in his pants.
Clover rose and they helped Frank to his feet. He took out his wallet and handed several bills to Roxanne, then stepped out of the room.
"If this guy becomes a regular, his nickname is going to be Frankie Faithful," Roxanne said.
"What did he give us?" Clover asked.
Roxanne held the cash close to her face to counted it in the dim light.
