Chapter 30: Welcome to the Beast House

In the morning, Scott Carter crawled out from under the counter, stretched, grabbed a bottle of alcohol, and took a big swig, gulping it down.

The alcohol's pungent smell filled his mouth, but after swallowing, he felt invigorated.

He opened the door to go for breakfast and picked up someone else's newspaper while buying a hot dog, just to kill time.

To be honest, he read newspapers better than Elena and the others.

It was a tabloid popular among men - "The Atlanta Star Chronicle."

It often published interesting reports, like a story about someone's motorcycle exhaust pipe breaking.

The recent secret report about the Methodist Association and the ATL Freemasonry was quite intriguing.

To the eyes of people in the Clayton community, those seemingly glamorous individuals were actually corrupt inside.

Last year, Scott even heard about the children of devout Methodist followers being harmed with no one to turn to for help.

Flipping to the second page, Scott looked for the story about the Methodist Association and the Freemasons and saw an eye-catching headline.

"The Methodist Association Accuses the Beast House of Discrimination Against Men; Beast House Responds: 'Men are Welcome After 10 PM!'"

Scott read the detailed report.

"The Chronicle" had sent reporters to interview at the Beast House. The spokesperson stated that the club supports freedom and equality, denying any discriminatory practices. The Beast House is open to all customers but due to limited capacity, they recommend male customers enter after 10 PM.

Even with his alcohol-induced haze, Scott understood the hidden message in the report.

Who are the patrons of the Beast House male strip club? And what can men entering after 10 PM expect?

Scott tossed the newspaper aside, opened the counter drawer, and started rummaging for money.

He only found 7 dollars.

Scott slapped his forehead, remembering something, he closed the store and headed to the community near his home.

That bastard Martin made some money recently!

He climbed over a waist-high wire fence, intending to loot, when he noticed an old pair of pliers on the windowsill outside and bundled wire below it.

Scanning the area, he saw that the wire mesh between his house and James' had been cut.

"Fuck! The Davis boys are all trash!" Angry, he picked up the pliers and snipped more of the wire mesh, bundling it up to sell for scrap to get enough money for the night's escapades.

...

Beast House, everyone arrived three hours early at the club.

Martin shouted, "Old Bruce, bring out that damn poster."

Bruce brought a bundle of posters to the stage.

Hart came over and opened them. The posters depicted photos of the club during its operation, with customer faces blurred out, showing only women.

The bold letters conveyed the simplest message--every night at 10 PM, the Beast House welcomes handsome men!

Hart understood and was full of gratitude, "Daddy Martin, I must call you Daddy Martin, you saved my brothers! My suffering brothers..."

Martin pushed him away, "I only want a daughter."

Hart, already shameless, shouted to everyone, "You all bear witness, from tonight onwards, I'll save money for a sex change operation, and next year you'll call me Miss Hart!"

Bruce urged, "Stop talking nonsense, you dumb pig, and get to work."

Martin shouted at Ivan and others, "Go and put the posters on the display boards outside. Whoever is slow, I'll marry Miss Hart to him so that you'll be in love forever!"

Everyone scrambled, not wanting to marry Miss Hart.

To attack or be attacked, that's the question.

On the second floor, Vincente came out of the office and stood by the railing.

Martin turned and said, "Boss, when people come in, we can't let it go wild."

"I know," Vincente said, leaning on the railing, "They can flirt all they want but no monkey business in my club."

No big deal, after 10 PM, the Beast House would just turn into a regular night spot.

Martin had said everything he needed to; he didn't understand management.

Besides, he was just a temporary worker on an hourly wage.

...

Outside the club, the posters on the boards immediately attracted the attention of many passersby.

Anyone slightly aware of social news in Atlanta knew what the Beast House was.

Men, well, some things didn't need to be taught.

Simple math might stump many men.

But even the most complex hint could be grasped by men after seeing it.

Two friends stared at the poster; one asked, "Wanna check it out tonight?"

The other replied, "Buddy, you know I have always supported freedom and equality!"

That afternoon, folks who had read "The Atlanta Star Chronicle" came specifically to look around, saw the Beast House's posters, and rescheduled their evening plans.

As night fell, a long line of female customers formed outside the Beast House.

The club had already announced that anyone who didn't like it could leave after 10 PM.

There were even more female customers these days.

It's better to meet someone suitable in one place than to hop between venues.

At 8:30 PM, in the black bar across the street, twenty young, strong black men were led into a large private room on the second floor.

Boyette was waiting here, saying, "You've been hand-picked by me from the South Side, each one of you is the best of the best. I'm giving you a chance to make money, so help me make money!"

He looked at Diego, "Explained everything?"

Diego replied, "I went over it twice in detail."

Boyette scanned all the dark faces and suddenly pulled a gun from his crotch, "Remember, no matter how eager anyone approaches you or how much money they offer, you're not to leave immediately. You must bring them into the bar and make them spend money! Once they've spent enough, what you do after, I don't care."

These black guys didn't have good prospects; a big shot offering them a chance in the bustling city made them come here.

A few minutes later, twenty muscular black men stood outside the black bar, waiting for the customers the boss had talked about.

Though female customers trickled into the bar, not a single one came from the Beast House.

After some more time, over a hundred men lined up outside the Beast House.

"Go across the street! Beast House lets men in at 10 PM," said a customer leaving the black bar to his friend, "It's full of thirsty ladies who will go with you easily."

The two hurriedly crossed the street to join the queue.

News spread quickly inside the black bar, prompting more men to leave and head across the street.

Those who frequented the nightspots near West Street knew that people coming out of the Beast House at night were easy to hook up with and liked to play hard.

*****

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