Your Princess is in Another Castle (6 page)

“Is there a bigger tip in it for me?”

“Of course,” says Seth.

“Let Kelly slap yours too and I’ll double it,” says Chris.

“Consider it done.  And stop looking so glum.”  She looks at me.  “You realize that you are allowed to speak, right?  You don’t have to go through your spokespeople.”  Stephanie smiles and saunters away.  We watch her rear-end stinger sway back and forth as she walks. 

“All right gentlemen, hope
you enjoyed those dollar dances,” blasts the DJ.  “Now we’re calling Montana Wild to the main stage for the first of a three-song set.  And remember, all of our lovely ladies are available for private dances.”

“What were we talking about?” asks Seth.

“We were lamenting the poor squirrel’s situation in
The Sword in the Stone and before that it was what made Jimmy into a furry,” I say.

“
Maybe he would have turned out to be a furry no matter what,” says Chris.  “I don’t know.  But female foxes are the most tempting animal if you’re teetering on the brink of furriness.  I mean another word for a hot chick is fox you know.  So I blame Disney for making Maid Marian such a fox.  And I mean that literally.  But you know what the worst part is?  It’s what Jimmy’s doing now.  He’s at Berkley studying genetic engineering.  Seriously.  Like he’s actually studying to become some kind of real life Dr. Moreau so he can create half-woman, half-fox abominations of nature in some kind of Orwellian nightmare.”  

“Orwellian nightmare?” asks Seth.

“Yeah, haven’t you read The
Island of Dr. Moreau
by George Orwell?”

“H.G. Wells wrote that, not George Orwell,” I say.

“No, he didn’t.  Orwell did.  Because he wrote Animal Farm about the talking animals and then wrote Island as a sequel about half-men, half-beasts because most people didn’t get the points he was trying to make in Animal Farm.”

“Have you ever actu
ally read a novel or just read Wikipedia synopsizes of them that were vandalized by drunken English majors?” asks Seth.

“Fine, maybe it was Wells,” say
s Chris.  “I’ll check it out when I get home.”

“
Hey, how did you find out all this about Jimmy, anyway?” I ask.  “Told you, did he?  I hope you didn’t find out some other way.  Like through a The Shining
kind of way.”

“What do you mean?” asks Chris.

“You know, towards the end of The Shining when Shelley Duvall is running through the hotel and sees a man in a bear suit in one of the rooms giving oral sex to another guy.  You didn’t walk in on something like that, did you?”

“
Man, that scene terrified me when I was little,” says Seth.  “Bear suit guy, his face all in that guy’s lap, Shelley screaming and they just both stare at her.  When I was a kid that really scared me because at the time I didn’t even know what a blowjob was, let alone a bear-suited blowjob.  I mean I got that the two little girls are the ghosts of sisters murdered by their father and their
come play with us
bit is scary, yeah, but what the hell is the bear suit guy all about?  What’s going on there?  It’s even scarier for a kid when you don’t realize what’s happening in the scene.”

  
“Scared me, too,” says Chris.  “To answer the question though, one day we were walking through the mall and I stopped and stared at this gorgeous woman who was getting a pedicure in a boutique.  I was admiring her soles which were beyond perfect and said something about wishing I was the one giving her the pedicure without realizing I said it out loud.  Jimmy heard me.  I tried to deny it at first, but he said it was all right.  He said he had a secret fetish of his own.  So we went over to the Orange Julius and he told me of his furry condition.  I think he was glad to finally tell someone.  I guess he felt some camaraderie with me because I too hid what I was.  No more hiding though.  As of today I’m going to feel free to indulge in my fetish without feeling shame in it.”

As if on cue, a topless Starry Nights approaches our table.  She sits in my lap and slips off her shoe
s, draping her legs over Chris’ lap. 

“Hi, boys.  Mind if I join you?” she asks, hav
ing already made herself comfortable.  True to his word, Chris enthusiastically places his hands on her feet.  While Starry is clearly a girl who knows what her client wants, I wish she’d have sat on Seth’s lap. 

Seth
seems to sense my discomfort and is amused.  “By all means, please join us,” he says, our de facto leader.  Chris need not give a verbal reply, his contentment obvious. 

“I like your name,” I say, feeling as if I should say something to a girl who’s
sitting on my lap, and I can think of nothing else.

“Thanks,” says Starry.  She turns to look dir
ectly at me.  Too close.  “But you can just call me Beth.  When I’m dancing I’m Starry, when I’m chatting I’m Beth.”  I liked her more when she was Starry.  “And I’m feeling a little tense right now, would you boys mind helping me out a little?”  Starry takes my hands and places them on her shoulders.  I rub them as best I can under the circumstances, chalking myself up as a victim of collateral damage. Her real target is Chris, likely enjoying the act of massaging her feet even more than Starry is enjoying having it done, although I also wonder if she’s actually enjoying it at all, or if it’s just a ploy to get him to agree to a lap dance.  But I doubt Chris would need much convincing.  And she seems nice enough, but I need my personal space.

“All right gentlemen, make some noise for Montana Wild!” bellows the DJ
.

“Well
I know what you like,” says Starry as she nudges Chris with her right foot. “So if you guys are different from your foot fan friend here, one of you is bound to like Montana.  That little lady carries some big guns.”

Montana Wild appears on
the main stage to a country song I’m not familiar with, though it’s a step up from Starry’s later rap selections.  Her attire calls to mind Daisy Duke as she wears the denim shorts that made the character famous and a red and white flannel top tied in a knot above her navel.  Montana’s hair is blonde, cut short in a bob which she hides with a black cowboy hat that she places atop her head as she begins to dance.  And she has a bust to rival Ivy Valentine’s.

Smitten with her, I’m glad
to see she’s dancing in cowboy boots.  Her choice of footwear has likely turned Chris off, plus he’s already occupied with Starry.  Seth doesn’t appear particularly impressed, either.         

“We
have a winner,” says Starry, looking at me again.  I realize I stopped rubbing her shoulders when Montana began her routine.  My facial expression likely also betrays my thoughts.

“Not doing much for me,” says Seth.  “
And I hate country music.”

“She looks exactly like Power Girl,” says Chris.  “Seriously, between t
hose boobs and that blonde bob she’s like a live-action Power Girl. They ever do a superhero theme night here, that’s who she’d be.”

“Power Girl,” I say blankly
.

“Yeah, you know, Kara Zor-L.  She wears the cleavage-bearing white outfit with
a red cape.  She’s Superman’s cousin from Krypton.  At least the Earth-2 Superman.  Of course he eventually ceased to exist when-”

“I know
who Power Girl is,” I say.

“Ge
ntlemen, there’s a lady present,” says Seth.  “And she also happens to be topless.  So ask yourselves, is this the time to be talking about Crisis on Infinite Earths?”

I see in Chris the wanton desire to believe.
  “Beth, I think you know your comic stuff,” he says.  “So tell me, who’s the fastest man alive?”  In a subtle maneuver, he moves Starry’s feet so they no longer block the image of the lighting bolt on his chest.

“Superman,” Starry instantly declares.  “He’s better than everyone else at everything.  That’s what makes him Superman.”  Her delivery is so deadpan I can’t tell if she’s being serious or deliberately attempting to provoke Chris.
  And as few things do not provoke Chris on some level, if that was indeed her aim, she succeeded.  He appears ready to take her to school, to champion the case for the Scarlet Speedster when he suddenly relents and simply kisses the sole of her foot.  A look of peace forms on his face that I’ve never seen before.  “That’ll do,” he says as if he were the farmer in Babe.  

“That wasn’t
a fair question,” I say while gazing at Montana.  “DC has always avoided definitively establishing who’s fastest.”  Seth rolls his eyes at us.

“Seth
’s right,” says Chris.  “Let’s lay off the comic talk for the lady.”

“Don’t mind me,” says Starry
.  “I’m enjoying my foot massage.”

Montana
makes a show of untying her top and tosses it to one of the three men seated at the main stage.  She still wears her shorts and boots.  Chris is right.  There’s a strong resemblance to Power Girl.  She jumps up and down, breasts bouncing.

“Jesus,” says Seth.  “I’m not one of those guys who thinks anything more than a handful is a waste, but that’s ridiculous.  She must have female overcompensation issues to have gone that big.  Before her boob job she must have had nothing at all.”

“I don’t care about boobs.  I’m a sole man,” says Chris.  “She needs to take off her boots so I can see the pair that really matters.”

“What about me?” asks Star
ry as she nudges Chris with her foot, harder this time. He kisses her other sole.  “You know I love you,” he says. 

“I like her,” I say.   

“You two are a couple of freaks,” says Seth.

“You know, the name Montana Wild sounds awfully familiar to me,” I say.

“Me
too,” says Chris.

Seth glares at me. 
“Dude, why dwell on the origin of her name?  She obviously paid good money for those cannonballs on her chest.  Go over there with some bills and make her investment worthwhile.  But yes, the name does ring a bell.”

“So go over there and ask her about it,” says Starry.
  “Kneel before her and show her the same reverence your buddy here is giving me.”   

“How’d you come up with your
name?” I ask.  I wish she’d get off my lap.

“I
’m an art major.  I’m named after a Vincent Van Gogh painting that also happens to make for a good stripper moniker.”

“Told ya,” says Seth.

I watch Montana dance in silence for several moments, consider going up to her. She’s made an awkward transition from country to rap, although it hasn’t affected her performance.  “Do you get to pick your own music?” I ask Starry.

“Just the first song.  Then they pick for you, and it
’s usually either rock or rap. Don’t ask me why.  You can dance much better when you like the music.”

“I think I’m going
over to her,” I say.

“You should,
” says Starry.  She gets off my lap and pounces on Chris, presses her forehead against his.  “And while he’s doing that, why don’t you come with me?” she beckons.

Resistance is futile and we both get up from our seats.  I examine my wallet for some singles and Seth rises and hands me five of them.  “
I didn’t think you’d bring any, so I’ve got you covered,” he says, snatching a five from my wallet.

“Thanks.”

“You going to be okay here by yourself, Seth?” asks Chris. 

“Yeah, I’ll get by somehow.
  Though I’d like to know what happened to Stephanie.” 

Starry takes Chris
’ hand and leads him away. 

“And as f
or you,” says Seth, “when you go over there don’t tell her she looks like Power Girl.  I don’t think that you would, but you know… don’t.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say.  Making my way over to the main stage, I see that
Montana is having a dollar bill put into her shorts.  She’s removed her boots.  I sit down a few seats away from the guy she’s currently with.  She really is beautiful.

N
oticing me, she approaches with a smile.  I smile back and wonder if I should say anything.  She doesn’t.  Instead she unzips her shorts and tosses them away.  She opens her mouth wide in mock shock, as if the removal of her shorts were an irregular practice, perhaps against policy, and she is surprised she’s breaking the rules for me. Montana does not realize I do not want her to become completely naked. 

She
turns away from me, revealing a white thong.  She slaps herself on the butt and scoots towards me.  Her body within reach, I place a dollar bill into the strap of her thong.  She kneels in front of me.

“Hello,” she says.  She speaks in a friendly tone, as if she were fully clothed.

“Hi.”

“You look too serious.  I’m not going to hurt you that badly.” 
Montana laughs as she removes her thong.  She drapes her left leg over my shoulder with her exposed vagina directly in my line of sight.  I look away as if I’d just stared directly into the sun.  Grateful for the existence of such a thing, we all come from one after all, but still I cannot bring myself to look at hers.  I wish she hadn’t removed that final piece of clothing and want to ask her if she’d mind putting it back on.