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The change worked out well for the boys. Since the club was closed Mondays, they had the same day off. Weekend daytimes they could play with Jim. Most of their after-hours tricks stayed with them. Since their showmanship was hotter than the other Twin Peaks' strippers, their tips were very good. Mr. Carson was very happy with his new hires.
And their own relationship continued to blossom. On an average night, they would come home for a midnight snack and a nightcap, then climb into bed, snuggle until their sex drive overcame their fatigue and commanded that they consummate their desire for each other. They both topped. They both bottomed. Their yearning for each other's bodies knew no bounds.
Twin Peaks had never had an emcee. The strippers performed anonymously. The combo would just strike up the music for the next act and the designated stud would do his thing.
One night about six months after they were hired, however, there was a raging thunderstorm. Dick soldiered on, but in the middle of his number the club lost power.
"Ieeeeh," cried more than one patron as the entire neighborhood was plunged into darkness.
Dick rose to the occasion. "It's all right," he announced. "I've been asked to go a little further than the law allows. So while I'm going all the way, you are still invited to enjoy the show."
Laughter replaced sounds of panic.
"Oh...and if what I'm doing upsets you, I wouldn't leave," Dick continued. "What's going on out on the sidewalk is even more distressing. Even girls are doing it."
For almost fifteen minutes Dick employed his almost-forgotten talent from his movie days to keep the crowd entertained. When the lights came back up as unexpectedly as they had failed, he pretended to be pulling his briefs back up, saying "Well that's all you get to not see tonight, guys.
"And what do ya know? My time's up already. So let me introduce our next act. Please welcome Jerry Hinds."
That provided the cue for the combo to start Jerry's music.
Mr. Carson immediately sought out Dick.
"That was great," he exclaimed. "How would you like to be the regular emcee?"
"For another hundred a week?" answered Dick. "You're on."
Dick worked hard developing a patter. He continued to do his strip routine, but as emcee he became even more popular, and the club became even more successful. It was fairly common for patrons to offer to buy him drinks, so he didn't think anything of it when a Donald Simpson introduced himself and wanted to share a cocktail with him.
"I am the artistic director of the Magic Theatre," Simpson said. "We are a professional company dedicated to producing new plays. Have you ever done any acting?"
Sensing that something interesting might be afoot, Dick lied, "Not on the stage. That is not since high school." (Never in high school either). "I have had a small speaking part in a couple of movies." (Since the decline of Bareknob Pictures his features were no longer being seen in theaters).
"We are set to soon start rehearsals for an avant-garde play that we are very excited about," Simpson continued. "But we're having a real problem casting the lead. The play is about a former surfer who is mentoring a couple of teenaged delinquents. He spends most of the play shirtless, so he has to have a good body. We are also looking for somebody with a particular vocal quality."
"You mean low-class?" Dick grinned.
"Let's just say we're not looking for stage diction," Simpson retorted. They both laughed.
"I've watched your act a couple of times. You certainly have the build we're looking for, and I think your patter has the style that will work well for the character. If you're at all interested I'd really like you to come down and read for our director, Junius Brock."
"I'd be a fool not to be interested," Dick said. "The obvious question, though, is `What's in it for me?' My work here is my living. And there's my roommate, Jerry Hinds, to consider."
"Well, the play will run for four weeks. I'm sure we can pay you as well or better than you're doing here. The rehearsals will be in the mornings or afternoons, so they would not interfere with your work here at night. I know Brad Carson, and I'm sure we could get him to let you off for the run of the show and welcome you back when it closes.
"We are an Equity Theatre. You mentioned that you'd done some film work. Are you a member of the Screen Actors' Guild?"
"No," Dick giggled. "I wasn't up to that level."
"Well I asked because SAG members in good standing can become members of Equity. But in any event, if you should audition and get the part, I'd suggest you become an Equity Membership Candidate. I'm sure that you would have other acting opportunities down the road, and Equity Membership is a plus for any legitimate actor, and a requirement places like Broadway."
The two of them continued to discuss the opportunity. "One thing," Simpson said. "You'll want to pick a stage name. `Peter Goode' sounds too much like the name of a porn actor."
"Never thought of that," Dick laughed. "But my real name is Dick Harder." They both laughed again.
"I've always liked `Barry,'" Dick said.
"A single syllable last name would be good then. What about `Barry Swift?'"
"Good as any," Dick replied.
Carson came by the table. Simpson told him what he was proposing, and Carson immediately agreed to give Dick a leave of absence.
"Of course, I'd expect him to be here any night that the theater didn't have a performance," he laughed.
"And the nights I wasn't here, I'd expect you to pay Jerry to be the emcee," Dick countered.
Dick tentatively agreed to audition. He arranged to call Simpson and set up a time.
Later that night he lay with Jerry enjoying the afterglow of their passion. Jerry liked to fondle Dick's now soft dick. Dick liked to nibble and whisper into Jerry's ear. Dick discussed Simpson's offer with him. Jerry thought the deal would be cool for both of them.
Later that week before Donald Simpson and Junius Brock, Dick, bare-chested and in jeans, read a scene from The Surfer Boys with the two "teens" who had already been cast. (They were actually baby-faced actors in their twenties). It was obvious that Brock felt that Dick's physique was ideal for the role. He watched and listened and then did something rarely done at an audition. He made some suggestions to see if Dick could take direction. Then said they'd be in touch.
"He's going to need some work," Brock told Simpson, "but I think you've made a real find. And you say he's gay?"
"I can't say for sure," Brock replied, "but most male strippers are at least bi."
Copyright 2016 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.