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357 Magnum And The 38 Double D's....

Kitty Kat Bodyguards

Clint knew that he had joined a frat for reasons unlike most of the Brethren living near him.

Many of these guys had parents that payed their way and only a few took out Government loans just to be able to buy books and pay for where they lived during college. But the cost of driving home each day down the interstate and then on out to the county road made it quite a drag on gas and upkeep for the old 67 Firebird Convertible.

(Birdy) the Baby Blue Pontiac was Clint's first car and was the first referral from the divine motor advice of uncle Terry, (The Gear Head PhD.)

Uncle Terry could listen to the problem with your car Friday after work and then have a break-down analysis with the control and three different test case projections by the time you met in the lobby of church for second mass. Birdy was an original owner convertible that had a tire not turning and the owner was weary of all the huge garage estimates for a car with just over 98,000 miles. At the time, automobiles ran for about 100,000 and then soon became refrigerators or sat on the hill of a farmer's property where mice became inhabitants or a rooster might stand and crow at day break. The changes in climate and the salt used on the freeways gave some midwestern towns a teasing moniker (The Rust Belt)

Quite often if your vehicle's transmission was not freezing up on you, the frame upon which it sat truly was and one day you could be outside of your driveway only to find yourself sitting on the gravel from your favorite county road. So, Birdy had a dinged front chrome bumper and a few blemishes here and there but all in all she was a beauty to behold...

Upon a whisper in Clint's ear, He made a cash offer for her and then towed her away back to uncle Terry's cement laboratory. After jacking up the tire of suspect they removed the axle shaft and all it's grease fittings.Clint saw the wire-rimmed glasses raise up which usually meant there was progress at hand. A quarter inch raise was only a slight discovery but, this time he saw a full half inch and a smile so, Clint knew that he'd not just wasted all his money.

"Yep this shaft is a goner but, we can get another one for about 25 bucks down at the yard."

Clint had anticipated some immediate repair but was quite surprised at the low initial requirement here and to actually be able to drive on all four tires so soon. Uncle Terry wanted to check out some things on the front end before he'd let this car onto the road and so he slid underneath the engine only to find himself in a tight spot. He'd been reminded of Clint's weight lifting practices so, he said " Clint, lift up on that bumper till I say stop would ya/"

Clint looked at it and thought "well, its only metal on springs so, what the heck..."

They got Birdy up to the right point and Clint heard the ratchets grinding so he just stood there awhile thinking about Raquel Welch in her wolley mamoth bikini until Uncle Terry told him to lower down.

Later that day Birdy got the good road keeping seal of approval and Clint zoomed down the highway seeing the dust and uncle Terry waving in the rear view mirror.

Now it was Clint and Birdy out in a society of drugs and drama unseen in his home town and in order to gain the degree needed for advancement Clint would have to choke down a few of his beliefs and behaviors if he planned on making it further along the road of His American Dream.

It was the meeting of party entertainment employees at a frat kegger that gave Clint his answer as to what part time job he would be using to keep himself and Birdy maintained during college. The 1st employee's name he spoke with was Amber and this was one dancer that had some amazing waves of grain.

Amber was a blonde about 25 years that had the curves of the Autobahn freeway and sad to say the IQ of an old tv show star named Gomer Pyle. She knew how to walk across a room full of young men that were full of new alcohol and keep them just about as thirsty for her as they were for their Budweiser...

But for some reason Clint wanted to get to know her better and did not even think about trying to get her upstairs to his frat room. He just watched her saunter back and forth, weaving between the guys at the front wooden supper tables that were shoved together to make a dancing platform for the guests.

If you have ever watched any movies that had castles and English lords in it, then you might be familiar with the look of these heavy wooden tables. The countenance of this particular frat house seemed to be fashioned after the same period in time and made for extremely durable lodging. It usually took 4 or more fraternity members to move these tables any distance but, Clint and 1 other of the larger members were able to do it which made them quite useful at times for the housing manager of the season.

It was Clint's time at the front table and so he took a seat at the very end where he figured Amber would be able to give him all her attention. He was reminded of uncle Terry's experience in the U.S. service and so he had all of his dollar bills stuffed into his front shirt pocket where Amber could see them. After being involved in the frat game (shot-a-minute) Clint was a bit more light in his loafers than he was at supper time when Ma Olsen was serving up her famous meatloaf surprise. He often wondered about that name because it never changed, it always tasted good and filled you up so, there really never was any surprise !

Clint was told as a newbie pledge that he could easily be replaced but, Ma Olsen our House Cook could not, so ALWAYS treat her well or there would be hell to pay...

Clint could now see Amber coming his way with her eyes staring at his shirt pocket. She licked her lips and tossed back her hair making sure that he saw it all. Amber got to the end of the giant table and blew a kiss at Clint's face. He just sat there motionless waiting for some personal contact to begin.

Amber kissed his cheek and ran her hair over his face while she pressed her warm chest into his. Clint could feel her breath as she whispered something sexy into his ear and so it seemed to be the right time to shove a couple of dollar bills into her black fishnet nylons. Amber said 'Thank You Baby" and then crawled away for the time being.

Clint had a few beers under his belt and normally would have gotten up to visit the bathroom by now but, the strange thing is, as a young sensitive and virile male in his last year of being a teen, his pants were suddenly tighter and any thoughts of being able to take a whiz were put into arrears.

Amber had definitely made an impression upon Clint and he was there for the long haul...

Time went by and most of the frat boys were weaning away due to dizziness or the need to go off and barf into the outside bushes. Clint was still mostly sober due to the fact that he saw the owner of the girly show walk in 30 mins earlier and wanted to watch his moves. Now, this guy was about 160 lbs soaking wet and wore glasses to boot !

At first he thought he was some fraternity alumni that had planned this Saturday for his one night out per month his wife allowed him. But when Clint asked Amber if she knew him, he was told that the guy owned the whole thing...

Clint gave Amber his last 5 dollar bill and after her big kiss, Clint asked Amber to introduce him. The room was pretty quiet now and the Marshall speakers were cooling down. Amber introduced Clint to the owner and Clint noticed upon the hand shake that there was a definite bulge under the left side of the man's jacket. Clint tried not to look but, it was too late and the man just smiled at him and winked. There was a brief silence between them but Clint knew it was time to speak up about any future employment.

He asked if there was any openings for security and the owner said "well, we have another show to do in about an hour so, do you want to tag along?" Clint figured this was a sort of real life test just to see how he reacted around all the naked women and if they felt comfortable with him there so Clint replied, " ubet, just let me get my coat."

There was a slightly used Cadillac Fleetwood outside, it was white and had red leather interior. Now back then a Fleetwood was big enough to be charged for 2 spots in an underground parking facility and did not fit inside most attached one car garages of private homes. So, a person usually needed enough money to pay for the caddy and a larger home with a bigger garage as well.

Clint figured this guy must be making some pretty good dough or had some very rich parents, either way he knew that there was a lot of fun to be had hanging around this guy... The drive was not very long and it turned out to be a stop at one of the dancer's apartments where she had a little girl and babysitter.

They all were just sitting inside this giant hunk of metal and it was the 1st time that Clint had ever come across the smell of refer. At first he thought someone had burned a hole in the floor carpeting with a cigarette cherry but, then saw Amber take this huge hit off of a small metal pipe. Clint looked at the owner and asked " So how many guys do you have working for you now?" The owner paused and then said " I'd say 4 but, in this business you never really know".

Just then a bulb went off inside Clint's brain that told him he had a pretty good shot here if he was just a reliable employee. They returned to the freeway and traveled another ten minutes to a small suburban neighborhood. The owner stopped the car and went inside to check things out. He told us all to follow and we went into the master bedroom.

The girls stripped down to their G-strings and 4 inch heels right in front of Clint. he knew the owner was watching so he picked up a copy of life magazine sitting on the dresser rather than stare at the most beautiful naked female bodies he'd ever been within 20 feet of without having to think about all the money that dinner had just cost him. Clint already knew he wanted this part-time job even if he didn't get the full amount of weekly hours he desired.

There were only so many guys that actually (got paid) to watch women strip and he surely wanted to be one of them.

Clint was called the next week to work both Friday and Saturday nights and he agreed with no resistance because he wanted to start out in the green.

The first stag party Clint ever attended was a while ago when a friend of the family was getting married so that was not really much of a change for him. The difference this time though was that he was sort of (with the home team) this way and that was different for sure...

See, at a stag party, men usually get drunk,play poker, talk bad about women and watch pornos until the entertainment arrives. If you are lucky, the guy hosting the party is smart enough to think about nutrition and the lack thereof when you drink a lot of booze and don't eat something besides potato chips along with it.

As time went on Clint became sort of a party consultant in addition to a dancer bodyguard.

usually, the guys that could afford these girls we educated and it was their relative or good friend that was getting married, So, often times He would be asked about things for the girls to eat while they were there and he always suggested they go down to the grocery and buy 2 types of meat and cheeses along with whole wheat bread. Clint would look in the fridge for mustard and mayo and even for lettuce depending upon how many girls were with him.

These guys thought Clint was consulting for just the royalty in hot pants & leathers but, in reality it was for the stumbling idiots that he didn't want to have to threaten as well...

Some of these guys were not much in the way of drinkers and had recently just seen a Steven Segal movie or a vikings game and the liquor had moved them into the realm of the (gutsy) rather than the (gutless). They still were under 6 feet tall, no biceps to speak of and definitely nothing hidden under their jackets. Its just that they felt like it was ok to be an idiot because of the event of the evening...

The owner told Clint to always check things out and get the money for the show (in cash) before bringing the girls inside. Someone once asked him the question:

" Well how do we know you aren't going to take this money and then just take off with the car and we will get nothing?" His response was, "Well friend, if I don't get the money and then call my boss within the next ten minutes, "We Will Be Gone And You Will Get Nothing For Sure !"

"So, you decide, I'll just wait here for another (oops sorry,) 7 minutes left now...."

That worked every time except once and that was at a place where the dudes were bigger and badder than Clint alone and each of the Harley bikes had Ape Hangers for handle bars.

It was this experience that almost pushed Clint out of the dancer bodyguard business but, because Clint was still quick on the draw inside himself, he motioned to the biggest guy at the party to come over and talk.

Clint knew from friends, there was a sort of brotherhood between big guys because they have usually been the ones used for nothing more than their size and never their brains regardless of their I.Q. level . Most have been bouncers by the age of 35 if they rode a bike and this guy had a black leather vest with a Nazi Cross and a skull tattooed on his arm.

He came over and asked "what the problem was?" Clint told him he wanted his opinion if Clint seemed like the type of guy to grab cash and run away with dancers at a biker party?

The guy said "Nah,, you don't look quite that stupid" So, the other biker at the door gave him the cash and then Clint went and got the girls.

One thing Clint didn't count on was these 2 chicks being totally freaked out by all the scooter trash at this gig and for some reason figured that they would be used to everything by now since they both took their clothes off for a living...

He made the mistake thinking that behaving like a slut made them immune to the basic differences between the male and female species and the truth is, it did not. You still had to deal with the (fear factor) usually felt by females and males that had mothers too overbearing towards them most of their young lives.

It was Robin that spoke up first to tell Clint that he better be able to handle these guys or she'd be walking right out the door to get a cab ride back to Moby's. Clint just looked at her and said " I got it covered" The truth is that the thoughts of what he was going to do if a roomful of these jokers decided they wanted more than just a kiss on the cheek had already occured to him and it was definitely at the forefront of his concerns of the day.

See, the nice thing about this job was that 95% of the time the clientele was fine and upstanding. The hosts of the parties actually cared about whether the police showed up on their driveways and the idea of a neighbor seeing them being carted off to jail set badly with their plans for the future.

But guys like this had spent quite a bit of time in jail already and so what's one more time really gonna mean to them? Clint had shot pool with this sort over at Henry's Saloon back home on more than one occasion and when he asked them what jail was like for them? They said, "Well, not so bad, you get to keep warm and they feed you everyday so, sometimes its better than just being on the streets".

In Minnesota during the winter, being on the streets overnight could mean the difference between keeping or losing one or more of your toes and most of the shelters were only within the big cities so, family tried to stick together unless there was simply nobody else left, in which case some people bought one of the rider cards and just rode the bus all night until daybreak.

Clint had chicks come up to him in the downtown bars in the big cities and basically pick him up without him spending a dime on them simply because "he looked really warm" he was told the next day. He had a habit of wearing Levi jeans and long underwear beneath a red or grey flannel shirt and usually held a leather jacket or blue navy coat so, it made sense in a Robert Frost sort of way...

It was a strange way to be attractive but, Clint was not one known to complain much. He decided to go back to the car while the dancers were in the bedroom changing outfits because he knew this was the time to get "Big Jake" his 357 Colt python.

Big Jake had a blued finish and custom hand grips that made it easier to fire off rounds quickly and balance when he wanted to use his speed loaders in a pinch. It smelled like an oil used by the finest marksman of the day. Clint had saved up quite a long time for this handgun and cared for it " better than his checkbook or driver's license" his uncle used to say all the time...

This party seemed to be the one that Clint had been thinking about and dreading for a while because there was a group inside that was drinking more whiskey, smoking more refer and snorting more cocaine than Clint had ever seen before in his days as a freshman on campus or a dancer's bodyguard of the streets.

Size seemed to matter on the streets,for cars,scooters, sexy looking asses in hot pants and even the rings on your fingers.

This is one of the reasons why Clint chose Big Jake rather than some common 38 caliber police detective special. But, the question still remained, were any of these bikers still sober enough to realize what sort of damage would occur if they were hit (anywhere) on their tattooed and usually dirty bodies?

Pictures of the fallen tree Clint used for practice and the remnants of the metal pop cans swept through his mind like a never ending nightmare while he stood in the corner watching Robin and the new dancer Natalie work the room for tips and tastes of the white glory.

It was considered only proper to treat your entertainment with drugs and the alcohol of their choice at a stag party, (which was often the reason for the starting of this trade so that one could fill one's habits easier).Clint scoped the place looking for signs of artillery underneath a leather jacket, a table, in a boot or while he was alone in the main bedroom. Most guys were not very clever about where they kept their guns especially if they used them a lot.

This time it was in a closet of the bathroom connected to the bedroom. A nickel-plated S&W. 9 millimeter complete will extra clips. Upon a quick glance, Clint noticed that the clips were bare and felt no need to check the gun due to the time element and the fact that he felt like taking a squirt anyway just in case he was surprised by company.

After zipping up, he was met by the guy with the Nazi cross at the bedroom door where upon the guy said " I see you found it yourself " Clint said " yeah I seem to have a sort of sixth sense about such things ha!" The big biker replied with " ya I know what you mean" Clint sort of wasted some time around the entrance to the bedroom in hopes of catching the attention of this guy one last time. When he came out Clint said " hey, lemme ask you a question" I can see most of these guys are pretty wasted so, i was just wondering if you think that there will be any problem with us leaving when we want to? We have another gig after this one...

The guy looked Clint up and down and said " well, you still have your leather on so that means you're packin right?" Clint nodded. Nobody your size wears anything less than a 45 under a leather like that and these guys know it. They may be wasted but most are not complete idiots like you find in a hometown bar somewhere. The other side of it is that you are still pretty young and those are the ones itchin to draw down on somebody just for sport.

The star of the show here is actually getting married and there are already some guys that agreed to watch out for him tonight which means they are watching everybody (including you)..

So, my guess is if you stand and watch your Poontang as usual, nobody will be lookin to keep you from being on your way once its all over...

Clint said "thanx bro I'm just doin my job" The biker replied with " yeah I've been there, I bounced in a tittybar on Hennepin avenue awhile back, never again. Clint said " yeah, why not?"

"Because chicks with tramp stamps will make you grey before your time dude"

Clint laughed and said "Yeah, I'm sort of getting that feeling already !! "

The dancers both came back in the bedroom and Clint toweled them off so they both could redress quickly and cruise out the door. it was times like these that reminded Clint of the old Elvis documentaries with him being raced into the limo to avoid the mob of fans.

THE KITTYKATS HAVE LEFT THE BUILDING !!!!!!

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