Showgirls and Aliens
Chapter 1: Snakes on a Stage
Nomi had no problem getting naked in front of the crowd. It was the snakes that bothered her.
Beneath her feet two dozen snakes appeared. A less devoted stripper might lose their rhythm, but she was a pro. Using her dancing skills she managed to gracefully high step and kick to the beat of Duran Duran's “Union of the Snake”, a song that was older than she was, avoiding the snakes.
A giant boa entered stage right. She glanced stage left to see if she could avoid it. The twenty-foot python made that a problem. How do I work this into my routine?
The crowd cheered when she ripped off her top. She wasn't the most endowed stripper at the club, but the crowd enjoyed her energy. She tossed her top stage left. It landed on the python covering its head. It laid down defeated.
One ringleader down. She only had to avoid the boa stage right, while stepping over its minions at her feet. If things weren't bad enough the song was halfway over. If I don't get naked soon I'll get a warning.
She smiled as she came up with a plan. The crowd cheered almost as loudly seeing her smile as they did seeing her boobs. Slipping out of her skirt, she flung it in a high arch so it landed on the boa. She hoped it would cover its head. The boa would be defeated like the python. The skirt landed perfectly on the boa but slipped halfway down its body.
The boa was swaying to the music wearing only her skirt. Unfortunately its routine was pretty good. I'm not losing tips to a snake.
She flung her gold g-string at it, which landed on the snake's head, making a perfect gold eye patch. There, no one is going to tip a pirate snake.
With the ringleaders taken care of, she only had to worry about the minions at her feet. She jumped up on the pole as high she could. Spinning down she had to focus on one spot or she would get dizzy. She choose the front table where two man sized reptiles were sipping their drinks. She couldn't help notice they had a stack of bills on the table so it was better to focus on that.
Nomi had spun down waist high on the pole when she noticed a problem. All the minion snakes had gathered at the bottom of the pole. They took up the all space for three feet around it. She couldn't do a normal dismount. She'd have to get some distance.
She had done a flying dismount from a pommel horse in gymnastics, but never from a pole. How different can it be other than my hands will be vertical, I'll be landing on a hard stage instead of padding, and the boa couldn't spot me if it tried. No arms.
Her abs strained as she swung up to grab the pole. Her forearms complained when she released her legs and used only her arms to swing horizontal. Then she let go and floated through the air. It didn't matter if she was stripping or competing, she always loved the feeling of free-fall. She came back to the present with her legs split, two feet above the stage. Not quite in the right position. Next to her the ghost of Patrick Swayze appeared. Would that be Sam Wheat?
“Pain don't hurt!” he said.
Half a second later her body confirmed that Swayze was wrong. Pain, by definition, does in fact hurt. She smiled through the pain and finished her split to the cheers of the crowd.
The snakes were coming after her. She wouldn't be able to recover from the split before they were on her. She remembered seeing a film about the snake charmers in India. It was worth a shot. She put her palms together, centered in front of her body and swung back and forth to the fading rhythm of the song.
The minion snakes mirrored her moves. The crowd was delighted at her swinging breasts. Even the python peeked out from her top to be enchanted.
The music stopped and the DJ's voice filled the air. “Give it up for Nomi. What a performance.”
The loud cheers spooked the snakes and they retreated to the back of the stage. That left her free to offer her thigh for the line of gentlemen, mostly human, to stuff bills in her garter. She felt the scaly hand of the reptile stick a bill on her inner thigh. Ugh.
Looking down at the bills Andrew Jackson winked at her. At least the reptile tips.
She gathered up her clothes and exited stage right. The next girl, Tara, paused on the steps.
“It will be tough to follow that.”
“You can do it.” Don't tell her about the snakes, she'll find out soon enough.
Dressed in her teasing work clothes and ready for anything, Nomi went back into the club. Meeting with the patrons could be good or bad. The high class club mostly attracted perfect gentlemen, that respectfully appreciated her teasing them. A few jerks came in from time to time, dealing with their insecurities by acting like the performers were trash. Like they didn't whore out their morals to make the money they tipped her. She didn't even want to think about the strange ones.
The guy with the blue glow that matched his tie seemed nice. The next guy, whose face was melting, just grunted when she thanked him. Hope his whole face melts off, serves him right.
Finally she had to thank the reptiles. Note to self, don't do acid before a performance again.
“I'm glad you enjoyed the show.” She knelt down next to the reptile who tipped her. At least she thought it was the one who tipped her, all reptiles looked alike to her. But, I'm not racist, or speciesist.
“You're quite the dancer. I'm Bob.” One eye focused on her while the other stared off ninety degrees.
“Would you like some company?” He might be cold blooded but at least he's not a jerk.
“I'd love some.” He pointed at the chair next to the other reptile. “Randi was commenting you are the most graceful one here.”
She took the hint and grabbed the chair next to Randi, or was it Randy? How do you tell a reptiles gender?
“Thank you,” she said to the reptile.
The second reptile spoke with a softer voice, “Do you do lap dances as well?”
“Sure, it's twenty topless, forty-five for fully nude.”
Bob grabbed a hundred from his stack. “I don't have change, so you'll just have to do two dances.”
She grinned at him. “I think I can deal with problems like that.”
Once Tara left the stage, Nomi stood up in front of the reptiles. She slid out of her top and put it on the chair. Who knows whats on the floor?
She leaned over Randi and gave a little jiggle. Both of her customers smiled. She slid out of her skirt and put it with her top, making sure to lean towards them. She threw her G-string on the pile.
Straddling Randi she looked away. What will the reptile's skin feel like?
The scales weren't rough like she feared, sliding down they had a slick feeling on her skin. It wasn't until she went to slide back up that the scales became a problem. As soon as she did she felt a sharp pain in her inner thigh.
After a minute she figured out how to slip and slide along Randi's body. Making full contact going with the scales pulling away to go back up. She made sure to keep eye contact. Staring at Randi's yellow eyes with a horizontal slit for an iris.
She glanced at Randi's forehead and wondered if she should maintain eye contact with the third, parietal eye as well. It's only photosensitive not capable of forming images, ignore it.
Soon Nomi found herself enjoying the lap dance, it was like rubbing up against soft leather. As long as she remembered to move right. She was a little disappointed when the second song was over.
“Thanks,” she told Randi, “That was fun.”
“Thanks yourself. You're a wonderful, um, dancer.”
“Here's a little tip.” Bob held out the hundred with a twenty. “Worth every penny.”
She walked over to hold out her leg so Bob could slid the bills in her garter. “Thanks, I've really have to be excused for a second, then it's my turn on stage. But if you want I'll be back after.”
Both reptiles nodded and Bob said, “We definitely want your company.”
Nomi finished up on the toilet and grabbed her purse. She opened it up and reached for the small mirror. A little piece of toilet paper stuck in the wrong spot makes a huge difference in tips. As she pulled the mirror out, a joint came with it, bounced off her leg and dropped into the bowl.
Shit, I need that to come down off the acid. Without it I'll be tweaking from midnight until morning. She thought about grabbing it, but that was too disgusting. I'll be paying Edgar a visit after work. Damn.
She composed herself and went out to do her routine, making sure to maintain eye contact with Bob and Randi. It was easier as the snakes had left. Halfway through the song a man in a black Trilby hat and black overcoat entered the club. Micheal Jackson called, he wants his hat back.
When she looked back over to the reptile table, Bob and Randi were gone.
“Nomi, I thought you were taken care of for the night?” Edgar smiled as he opened the door to his cheap apartment. “Or is this a social call?”
“You're sweet, but I wouldn't drive across town on acid for that? I'd hope you'd pick me up,” she said.
“You're a brave lady, come on in.”
Nomi crossed the living room and tried to ignore the stains on the walls that were morphing into caricatures of the cast of “Red Dawn”. She paused briefly to observe that Jennifer Grey looked better before her nose job. She took a seat on the couch that must have been rejected by Goodwill ten or twenty years earlier. She had to shift her weight as the spot where the reptile's scale brushed her leg was sore.
“I need something to bring me down later.”
“The one joint wasn't enough? No problem.” Edgar went over to the kitchenette.
“I lost it.”
“Bummer, I can give you a joint for five, or you could earn a twenty bag.” Edgar pointed at his crotch.
“Always the charmer. How desperate are you? Wanting head from a girl who's tweaking. I'd have a hard enough time imagining your little worm being tasty normally. Right now I'd probably think it was a real worm.”
“You're in for a surprise when you see it. But you're right it's probably a bad plan. Here you go.” He handed her the joint.
“You're a sweetheart.”
The apartment walls started to ripple and there was a pounding on the door. “Open up.”
“Damn, it's the Police,” Edgar said.
She looked at Edgar. “Don't stand so close to me.”
“Sorry, Every breath you take? Message in a Bottle?”
“Open up or we're coming in!” The voice boomed from the other side of the door.
“Ick.” Edgar opened the door to see a man in a black Trilby hat and black overcoat. “Is there a problem?”
“A very large problem if you don't let me in.”
“Cops can't come in without a warrant.”
The man opened his overcoat to reveal a large crossbow slung across his chest. “It's a good thing I'm not with the Police.”
Hope you enjoyed it.
By Darrell B. Nelson author of I KILLED THE MAN THAT WASN'T THERE