Chapter 31: The Amazing Moves by the Brothers

"Hey buddy, $15 entry fee."

Ivan and the blonde were stationed at the club entrance, collecting money from the men and letting them in. Each time they received money, they would say, "No fooling around inside the club. If you want to do something, find a place outside."

Scott stood impatiently in line and shouted, "Cut the crap, we know! I'll be sure to take someone out, so all you'll get to do is watch!"

The people who paid were eager to get inside. The club was so vibrant it felt like it was about to explode.

It wasn't just the ticket money; chatting up someone often meant buying them a drink, which was another expense.

Martin no longer mixed cocktails because there were too many people. He and Bruce were selling beer, and many male customers, wanting to appear generous, were tipping quite handsomely.

Scott came in, looking for a target, and immediately spotted Martin behind the bar.

Thinking of his wife who had been seduced by the old scoundrel Jack Davis, Scott immediately approached, "You idiot, you're working here!"

Martin glanced at him, "I'm busy, do as you please."

Scott's way of thinking was different from most people. He immediately raised his voice and started shouting, "This idiot Martin's old man seduced my wife and ran off without paying up..."

Everyone around, both men and women, looked at Scott as if they were seeing a creature from outer space.

Considering Elena, Martin picked up a beer and placed it in front of Scott, "My treat."

Scott took it and drank a big gulp, "That's more like it."

Then he left.

He said all that just to score a free drink.

Bruce came over when he had a moment, "Is your old man an even bigger scoundrel than you?"

Martin sighed helplessly, "I'm a good person, he is a scoundrel. It's obvious."

Bruce was curious, "I really want to meet your old man, see how amazing he is."

Martin killed the conversation with one sentence, "He doesn't lick posters or soak them in his bathwater to drink."

Bruce retorted, "I wish you can only mess with the earth for the rest of your life!"

Martin shamelessly replied, "You're just jealous!"

Bruce didn't want to continue talking. This scoundrel's thick skin could definitely stop bullets.

Inside the club, couples who successfully hooked up quickly left, while large groups continued to pour in, gradually shortening the long line at the door.

Ivan picked up the walkie-talkie, "Boss, send someone to collect the money."

Dana soon arrived with two people, took away the two nearly bursting bags, and left Ivan and the blonde with two new ones.

With the considerable cash and it being late, she specifically left someone with a gun to stand guard at the entrance.

Across the street, twenty young black men stood by the roadside, watching couples leave and feeling inexplicably restless.

Fred swallowed hard and pointed across the street, "That guy, and that guy, and the one with the afro, they all went in for less than five minutes and came out with someone."

"Seems...pretty easy?" his companion's voice was a bit high.

Another person said, "Should we go over too?"

Fred pointed at the blonde, "Same as here, they charge an entry fee. Do you guys have money?"

No one spoke. Between the twenty of them, they might be able to scrape together $20.

But seeing men continuously come out with women, especially those losers from the black bar across the street who could still score women, Fred's group felt like a fuse had been lit.

What to do if they had no money? They weren't good at earning, but they had a proud tradition.

Fred turned back to the entrance of the black bar. With fewer people going in, there was only a young Latino collecting money.

The young Latino had a wallet strapped to his waist and was holding a wad of five-dollar bills.

Fred noticed his companions all eyeing that direction and whispered, "Shall we?"

"Let's do it!" They had grown up doing this: "The usual way."

Fred nodded and was the first to approach the young Latino, "Hey buddy, got a smoke? Can I have one?"

The young Latino knew these were newcomers brought by the boss. He walked a few steps forward and reached out to take out a cigarette, "Next time, bring your own."

Three black men skillfully circled to the other side of the young Latino. Just as the Latino sensed something and turned his head, a brick smashed down on his head.

Fred grabbed the money, and the other two unstrapped the wallet and moved the unconscious Latino to an inconspicuous spot by the wall. Then, they all ran across the street.

The rest followed them.

They had no concept of the future or what came next.

Inside the black bar, the music was deafening, and no one noticed the door. To those inside, the twenty men outside were together, and even if they attempted a robbery, they thought they had the upper hand.

As for passersby, who cares about black-on-black crime?

At the line outside "The Beast House," the queue had dwindled. Fred and his group paid $300 in entry fees and entered the club.

...

In the black bar, Boyette stood by the second-floor railing and noticed something amiss.

"Have you noticed the crowd's thinner tonight?" He looked toward the entrance, "Our female patrons haven't come over? And more people are leaving?"

Diego frowned, "The crowd from across the street should have been here by now."

Boyette peered downstairs, "Our traffic is down by thirty percent!"

He signaled to the bartender below to come up.

The bartender hurried over, "Boss?"

Boyette asked, "Why is the crowd thinner tonight?"

"There were plenty initially, about the same as before," the bartender replied, having overheard many customers talking at the bar, "I heard them say that across the street, the club 'The Beast House' started letting in male customers at ten, drawing away our patrons."

Diego quickly caught on, "No wonder the crowd isn't coming. Who came up with this? Must be an old pervert, knows exactly how perverts think!"

Boyette quickly moved to the street-facing window and pulled back the curtain to look across the street. The line of men outside 'The Beast House' had dwindled, but couples were continually streaming out.

It didn't matter if their business was thriving; they were stealing his customers.

Boyette fumed, "Whichever pervert came up with this stupid idea, I'll cut his kidneys out!"

At that moment, two people hurried upstairs, followed by the young Latino clutching his head, his face covered in blood.

Boyette was furious, "What happened now?"

The young Latino clung to the railing and said, "Boss, those twenty pieces of dog shit robbed us! They took all the money!"

"What?" Boyette reached for his gun.

Diego quickly grabbed Boyette's hand to prevent him from shooting indiscriminately, "Where are they?"

The young Latino replied, "I was knocked out, and when I came to, they were gone."

Diego soothed Boyette, "Calm down! Let's find out where they went first."

Boyette pulled his hand free, sniffed the air, and regained some composure, "Forget about the place across the street for now, find those twenty pieces of dog shit first!"

...

Inside 'The Beast House,' twenty strong young black men had just entered when Martin noticed them and immediately nudged Bruce.

Bruce handed his beer bottle over to Martin and walked to the liquor cabinet, picking up a walkie-talkie, "Tom, keep an eye on those guys. Don't interfere unless they cause trouble."

He then asked the entrance, "Ivan, what's the deal with that group?"

"They paid up. I checked with the boss, and he let them in." Ivan had wanted to stop them but only the boss had the final say.

Bruce knew that in running a business, if you stopped them from entering, they could make accusations of racial discrimination, which could get complicated.

These guys didn't cause trouble, and were busy chatting up female customers. The leader even came over for a beer.

Before long, several female customers left with the group.

Martin chatted with the beer-seeking leader and then told Bruce, "They're from the Southside, helping out at the bar across the street."

Bruce asked, "Across the street? What are they trying to do?"

After work that night, the blonde brought the latest news: the bar across the street was looking for that group.

"Apparently, the bar owner Boyette brought them from the Southside slums to entice our customers, but they couldn't keep it in their pants and stole the bar's money to come spend here."

Martin was impressed, "Gotta hand it to them, those guys play it slick."

Bruce cautioned the club's security, "Keep an eye on the place across the street. If they try any funny business, you know what to do."

*****

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