Lock went around the riser and picked up the two Becky’s clothes scattered around it, and then he disappeared.
When the two girls were done drinking they kissed each other and stroked one another’s tits. The night club went into extreme mob mode. Guys were trying to climb up on the riser and Stabbs was there to shove them back onto the floor.
Then security forced their way the front and gestured for the girls to get down.
Kip thought, Here we go…
He watched from the second floor as the two girls looked around for their clothes and could not find them. The security crew became more insistent that they get down. Finally, Jack and Stabbs helped them down and escorted them up to the balcony, security following them half way. The DJ repaired the damage that Lock had done and the beat started again. The crowd dispersed and the floor looked once again like a distorted live painting.
Moments later the two Becky’s were standing behind Kip, along with Jack, Stabbs and Lock. Kip turned around to find the two girls still just as naked as they day they were born. Now the party begins, right Kip?
“Heya, Kip!” Jack yelled over the music. “I’d like you to meet Becky and Becky.”
The two giggled, they were already tipsy from the alcohol Lock had poured down their throats.
“I feel like I already k now them, Jack!” Kip said, holding out his hand to shake the girls’ hands. “I like their outfits.” He followed.
“It’s the latest style, Au natural,” Lock said.
“It really works on them, doesn’t it?” Stabbs added.
“They lost their clothes,” Lock said, winking at Kip. “I told them they could sit up here until we found them.”
Kip waved his arm to the chair and sofa, “Ladies, please, have a seat.” His eyes dropped to their shaved mounds sparkling with sweat as they smiled at him.
Blonde Becky started to sit in the chair, and immediately Lock was there before her, sitting down. She sat in his lap.
Brunette Becky took a spot on the couch, and Stabbs and Jack sat on each side of her, both throwing their arms around her.
Kip looked at his watch again. The Rolex said eleven. He’d seen no sign of Annie, so he decided to get away from the bad music and too loud crowd.
“Listen,” Kip said, “I am going out for some air.”
“What? And leave Becky and Becky?” Jack asked.
“It looks like Becky and Becky have more company than they need right now. I am sure they’ll be fine.”
Brunette Becky chimed in. “How do you know how much company we need?” she batted her glittered eyelashes at Kip and smiled. Pretty soon, you’re going to have more than glitter in those lashes, sweetheart.
Kip smiled at her. “Sweetie, if you need more company than these three, I am sure Stabbs can arrange something. He’s our go to guy. He always comes through.”
“Well, tell Stabbs we need our clothes,” Blonde Becky said, laughing.
“Ah, no you don’t darling,” Stabbs said. Kip laughed.
“See you guys back at the hotel,” Kip said, handing his drink to Brunette Becky, who sipped from it. “Or not. Whatever.” He left the balcony.
Jack scooted closer to brunette Becky and smiled a mouthful of very white teeth. “So, what shall we talk about?”
Kip made it through the undulating masses and found the door. The cool air hit him instantly and he stopped and basked in it. It was almost as hot in there as up on the stage. He realized his shoulder was aching and he spun his arm around a couple times to work out the cramp.
The surgeons told him that it would never fully work the same way again, but he set out to prove them wrong. It was then that he took the guitar seriously and honed his skills. He could play since he was a child, when his mother had forced him to take piano lessons. But on the guitar he was only mediocre. The day after surgery he was told he would have only limited use of his arm. That afternoon he slipped a roll of cash into the nurse’s hand and told her where to go and what to buy. She returned that night with twelve Gibson guitars. He examined them all and chose which one he liked best he gave the rest away to hospital staff. Within a week he was playing ‘Stairway to heaven’ from his hospital bed.
The day he was discharged he ran an advertisement and interviewed seventy two musicians. Of those he picked the three he’d just left in the balcony of the Steel Rain night Club and called them Kiptonite.
He was sure this all made a great story, and he knew he would tell it to Annie, but he hadn’t quite worked out how he was going to explain why he was in the hospital.
He didn’t want to go anywhere near that story. Suddenly he decided that maybe this whole biography thing was a bad idea anyway. Fuck, I need a drink.