Kim Li was about as far down the dank hallway as Deck could have thrown the little skinny bastard by the time he'd managed to get that mysterious green book open with a pair of nail clippers. He'd read some swarmy pr0n before, but never in his life had he read anything that made him so hot that'd he'd have done Elton John and George Michael like a tube sandwich if they'd been the only live flesh around at the time.

Each page read like a fortress of solitude for a haunted man who'd never even smelled the red snapper, let alone make the beast that has two backs. It was a memoir of a man who has run in social circles that Deck had only read about in the Globe or the Star. This little bastard had been in the hot tub of life with folks such as Goldie "Whorehound" Hawn, Babs "Stuffit" Streisand, and there were even suggestive hints of encounters with Ute "Eate" Lemper.

Deck had two Luckies in his mouth at one time, his left hand on a fresh glass of Brown, and the other hand searching for love.

Once things settled back down, the potential problems of this job began to work their wormy way into Deck's fevered brain. "$500 now; $500 later?" He slowly realized that this little green book was worth a hell of a lot more than the cost of 3 hours and some sweet talk from a quality hooker. There was gold in these here hills, and all he had to do was find a way to mine it.


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