Chapter 19: Full House

The chaos from the previous day had dispersed, and Clayton Street had been cleaned up, returning to its usual order.

As the sun began to set, and before the Hulk Mansion was due to open, dozens of people had already formed a line in front of the club.

People continued to arrive, and the line grew longer.

The news reports from multiple TV stations the night before, coupled with today's front-page coverage in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, had catapulted the Hulk Mansion Strip Club into the limelight.

Despite the vast population of over 5 million in the entire Atlanta metropolitan area, only a fraction of it was necessary to fill the Beast House to capacity.

The queue stretched on, with curious onlookers joining in.

Close to six o'clock, just before opening time, Ivan and Golden Retriever emerged on the porch.

Ivan handed a check to Golden Retriever, saying, "Hang on to that check, and don't spend it recklessly."

Golden Retriever glanced at the amount and remarked, "That's a lot."

Ivan responded, "It's the loyalty Martin talks about, idiot."

Golden Retriever corrected him with a grin, "Boss Martin."

Ivan looked at the long line outside and commented, "Martin might be cheap, but he's certainly effective. Much better than useless public relations." The two men opened the door and faced the queue of female customers. They announced, "Tickets are $20 each, please have the money ready!"

Twenty-dollar bills were handed over one by one, and Ivan and Golden Retriever collected a thick stack of cash in no time. The ticket sales in the first half-hour alone surpassed the previous night.

As people in the queue entered the club, it didn't diminish in length; instead, it continued to grow.

Ivan was confident that bonuses would be through the roof that week.

A car approached and pulled up at the end of the queue.

Michael, with a ponytail, surveyed the long line and the newspaper headlines about the Hulk Mansion Club. He slapped his forehead in realization, muttering, "I'm such a dumbass. I couldn't come up with such a simple solution!" Michael reluctantly accepted the fact that the strip club's fame had spread throughout Atlanta, but he had played no part in it.

He hadn't gained a single dollar, so he needed to raise money quickly to cover the $10,000 shortfall.

This morning, Vincent had already sent someone to request repayment.

Michael contemplated that he would have to sell cars and watches to settle his debts, while the bartender had received a $10,000 reward, making Michael feel somewhat mentally unbalanced.

However, he didn't dare to cause trouble at the Beast's House, as he knew those people weren't to be messed with.

Michael decided not to leave immediately and instead observed carefully, occasionally picking up a newspaper and reading it, thinking, "If I learn this PR technique, I can make a lot of money."

In the club, Martin expertly mixed a glass of Daiquiri and served it with a smile, saying, "Madam, your drink."

The female customer handed him a tip and asked, "The drink is excellent. Aren't you one of the dancers?"

With more customers arriving, Martin apologized, "All the performers are on the stage."

The club became increasingly crowded, with over 200 people, and nearly all the female customers joined in the drinking. Martin and Bruce were kept busy.

Martin collected the tips and tossed them into a box under the bar, not bothering to count them at the moment.

By a little past 6:30, the club was already filled to capacity. The stylish boy band on the stage was about to perform "American Soldiers," choreographed by the Savannah College of the Arts.

Numerous small-denomination bills were tossed onto the stage.

When it came to spending power, women were far more generous than men.

Hart had never found making money so easy.

Vincent stood by the second-floor office door, used the intercom to tell Ivan not to admit more people due to the overcrowding, and observed the bustling club.

Even the private rooms on the second floor were fully occupied.

Vincent tipped his cowboy hat, knowing that with this many customers, there were countless opportunities for the club's revenue.

His gaze then shifted to the bar, where he saw Martin Davis.

He never expected that old bastard Jack Davis would have such an outstanding son.

Vincent waved to call over the club's accountant, Dana, and said, "Clear Martin Davis's debts and prepare a $5,000 check."

Dana expressed doubt, "Isn't it too early for that? We've just started..."

Vincent interrupted her, saying, "He's full of potential. If he succeeds once, he can succeed again."

Dana complied and went to prepare the check.

Vincent looked at the dance floor and the shower of banknotes, then added, "Prepare rewards for the others as well."

Martin had provided him with a list earlier. Besides those inside the club, there were two others outside.

Vincent didn't bother with the small details; he had the situation under control.

The club remained packed with customers, and it was late into the night when it finally closed. Bruce counted the drinks and calculated the accounts, then opened a small drawer and pulled out a haphazard stack of banknotes, counting them one by one.

"This is the biggest tip I've ever received," he exclaimed with a silly grin, "44 dollars."

Martin stretched and teased him, "Congratulations, you civilized man. That's enough for a bunch of autographed photos."

Bruce looked ready to burst with joy, "Man, you're just jealous!"

Martin lifted a box onto the bar counter, saying, "Take a look, Old Boo! The tips I collected tonight are several times bigger than yours."

The box was filled with scattered $1, $2, occasionally $5 bills.

Martin continued to tease the polite and civilized Bruce, "Let me tell you a dreadful fact: I'll soon be richer than you."

Bruce was on the verge of exasperation and launched a sharp counterattack, "Other than good looks, what else have you got? It's all useless scheming!"

Martin quickly counted the banknotes, retorting, "Without my scheming, do you think you'd have received any tips tonight?"

As they bantered, a commotion erupted on the other side of the stage. Hart rushed onto the stage, showering banknotes all the way as he ran.

He reached the center of the stage, held a handful of money, and tossed it into the air. Green dollar bills rained down upon him.

Hart extended his arms, reveling in the money shower, and shouted excitedly, "Shower me with it!"

Several more members of the sportsman group joined him on the stage, throwing money wildly as the bills rained down.

Banknotes pelted Hart's head, and he fell to the ground with a thud, too tired to get up.

He wriggled on the floor like a worm, raised his head, and pleaded with Martin, "Please, let me call you daddy!"

Martin cruelly rejected him, "Get lost! I don't want a dumb son!"

Hart wailed dramatically, "You can't do this! There must be gender equality! Gender equality! Martin Davis, you bastard!"

Martin noticed Ivan and Golden Retriever approaching and changed the subject, saying, "I'm having a backyard party at my place on Wednesday."

Vincent emerged from the second-floor office and called out, "Martin."

Martin went upstairs and entered the office, addressing Vincent as "Boss?"

Vincent slid a check and an IOU across the desk, saying, "I've already written off your $7,000 debt, and here's a $5,000 bonus. Starting tonight, your hourly wage increases to $16."

"Thank you for your generosity