Park Avenue or Bust!

Chapter XXXI – The Strip Club

I would have staggered, backwards, forwards, anywhere, but there was no room to stagger. When I had last seen Michael Beaconsfield-Outremont, he was fully clothed and a steadfast, if annoying, piece of bureaucratic furniture at the UNDO office. His thighs were fully enclosed in trousers. Now, he appeared before me, still annoying, but thighs and… Continue reading Chapter XXXI – The Strip Club