A strip club is not the place for the troubled sort, like my nephew. I know this but I needed him to learn from a master and the brother at the club was the master of handling the Zombie girls. No one was better and he knew it. I would have to keep a close eye on him and move him along to something else to occupy his thoughts, very soon. He is not the kind of guy you let get bored. Too much thinking about his future could be a bad thing and cause too much ambition. It was best if I kept him busy, at least too busy to think about anything but making me money. I gave my nephew a good speech before sending him to the club. I told him the true nature of the brother he was going to be working for and to not push him. I also told him that if he got out of line in any way, I was going to let the brother take care of the problem in any way he saw fit and I would not stop him or even question his decision. Of course I was bluffing; I am not going to let some smart muscle take care of a problem with my blood. That is reserved for me. Maybe I’ll make is painless and quick for both of them. It would fulfill my sense of irony.
BTW: I am tired of seeing that freakin’ Zombie dressed like a 7 foot tall pink bunny. It gets too my soul. I can’t let my guys know, but that think is the creepiest thing I have ever seen and I do not even know why. If I ever find out who dressed that thing up I will take them to the pig farm myself.
