hard about our party personas. I shoved a bag toward Rick as I shed my keks and slid into my neon green mankini, tucking in my knob which kept trying to escape out of the thong part of my outfit as if it was some sort of executive toy. I’d originally planned for us to wear matching mankinis but somehow I didn’t think Rick would go for it.
Rick looked horrified. “What the bloody hell are you wearing, Vin?”
“Cool, innit?” I grinned at him, tugging at the skimpy material. “Borat has nothing on me. Those women are going to love it. I didn’t get you one because you’re a bit of a stiff, but your costume is cool, too. It’s got a 90s Mr. Motivator theme.”
Rick frowned as he pulled out a rainbow-colored, knee-length Lycra workout suit, circa 1993, with matching neon fanny pack and a British policeman’s helmet.
Rick shook his head. “No. No way.”
“Just go with the flow, it’ll be fun!” I wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Come on! Let’s get out there! They’re waiting for you!”
“Who’s waiting for me and why do I need a helmet?”
“Uh, health and safety. Do it for me, Rick?” I begged, eyeing the enormous MC who was looking pissed that we weren’t ready yet. “Do it for the Canine Crusader!”
“Alright! Alright! I’ll do it if you stop talking about yourself in the third person like that.”
Oozing reluctance, my fun-sucking friend changed into his epic costume and I pushed him on stage.
Bright white spotlights hit Rick between the eyes and he stood there like a rabbit about to be hit by a Mack truck, completely frozen except for a twitch in his left eye.
“Dance, you muppet!” I yelled, and women started screaming as Tom Jones’ voice bellowed out You Can Leave Your Hat On. “Follow my lead!”
And I started grinding my hips and doing that thing ladies love where my pecs dance, hoping against hope that Rick had unfrozen. Those women out there looked vicious—maybe this hadn’t been my best idea—but at least Rick had a helmet if things went south.
“Get your kit off!” I yelled as he stood there like a lemon, then ducked as a water bottle flew out of the audience at him.
“Dance! Dance! Dance!” they chanted.
An enthusiastic woman climbed onto the stage and ripped Rick’s Lycra to his navel. This seemed to wake him up and he legged it for the exit with her tugging on his shorts.
“Come back!” she yelled. “We ain’t seen the full monty yet and I want to know if there’s meat with them potatoes!”
At this point I decided that a strategic retreat might be a good idea, and ran after Rick and his new fan.
The MC grabbed my arm. “You said he was a professional!” the seven-foot man-mountain yelled in my ear.
“He is! But not at stripping—he’s just a bit shy.”
We were thrown out of there so fast, the door literally hit us on the arse on the way out.
“What the hell was that, Vin?” Rick growled, sounding a bit stressed.
“I don’t know, mate, you really let me down,” I said looking at him seriously. “What about my street cred?”
Rick’s face turned an angry purple as if he was about to hit me—maybe he was just sobering up.
Then Alf the doorman tossed our clothes out, unfortunately my trousers were missing and I didn’t think asking for them would be a good idea, but at least Rick seemed happier and at least I had a coat to wear over my mankini since it was a bit nippy around the nethers in February. Thankfully my socks matched.
“I can’t believe they did that to the Canine Crusader! Oi, Rick! Where are you going?”
“Home!”
“Nah, you can’t do that, we’re the star guests at a Broadway show—totally legit, trust me.”
He stood with his hands on his hips. “You’ve got us tickets for a show? As in singing?”
“Yeah, but they’re not expecting you to sing—no one needs that kind of ear-pain. And we’re VIP guests—we can’t disappoint them. I’ve got it all organized.”
Rick pointed his finger at me. “Okay, but only if you promise me on Tap’s remaining three legs that I won’t have to a) sing, or b) take my clothes off on stage.”
“Sure, sure! Of course! Although I can’t believe you made me swear on Tap’s legs! That’s not cool, buddy.”
“And you have to wear some trousers.”
Before he changed his mind, I shot into the nearest consignment store, scored a pair of worn Levis and tugged them on over