Inside A Smoky Bar, Facing A Stage With Poles

"Mate."

"Hermano."

"So, they don't suspect?"

"Not a thing. Even Heather."

"If Uma were there ..."

"Count your blessings."

"Now for the tough question ... the inside man?"

"Using the term 'inside man' in this case advisedly ... but, yeah, Paul's in place ... I pulled him aside for a final briefing before I left ... he's a trip, the little fucker, ain't he?"

"Better you than me to brief him ... speaking of briefs: what were they up to when you left?"

"Talking about how none of them but Tulip brought bathing suits. They couldn't wait for me to get my scrawny ass out of there so they could strip down and get in the hot tub."

"Jesus."

"Speaking of stripping ... where are we on that front over here?"

"Give me a sec ... I was getting a pleasant visual about back there."

"For Christ's sake, man, get a grip."

"Maybe later ..."

"Where's the fucking bar? I need a drink ... hey! Is that Helena? Thought she wasn't available tonight ..."

"I can be quite persuasive when I need to be."

"Obviously."

"Cullen won't know what hit him."

"I do so enjoy it when a plan comes together ... no one should ever doubt what we're capable of when we're working together."

"Never."

Earlier, Inside A Pub, Facing A Hot Tub With Bubbles

He had just breezed in, but they didn't mind because that's his style and they like that about the red devil, otherwise known as Dean "Dino" O'Leary. 

A gaggle of women were already inside the Come On Inn's powder room, that caldron of female lovelies ... or at least that's how Dino liked to think of it.

It was his birthday. They seemed especially happy to see him, and he supposed it was primarily because it was his birthday. But perhaps it was also because he was such a good flirt. The only woman who never seemed to respond as expected to his flirting was his woman ... Heather. But he had other secret weapons with Heather ... not that they actually worked, but that's part of her incredible charm in his life. She loves him in all his various modes; but most of all, she loves the "him" that needs her to love him unvarnished, ungilded and unexpected.

His birthday was actually the perfect excuse to drop in on the ladies ... these women involved in the lives of the small family of misappropriated men who had all ended up finding their way to this very pub, as if it were a vortex that drew them there for answers and for a sense of community.

On this night, he was dropping Heather off for a little hen party a few of the women'd thrown together in some divine happenstance when they'd found out that Zack and John had organized a bachelor party for the latest man to bite the dust: Lachlan.

The ladies "said" this was just an impromptu bit of female bonding and a chance to fete Curry's new bride Jessie ... but what wise man is ever fooled by something that sounds so innocent when it's coming out of the mouth of a woman like Heather?

The day after Heather had way-the-fuck-too-casually mentioned the hot tub party that would now happen the same night as their bachelor party, Dino had said to Terry, "The women are getting together while we are destined to be out carousing."

And Terry had said to Dino, "This is nothing but a set up." 

Dino had said, "Well ... yeah." Still ... Dino's a good sport.

He was dropping Heather off for the hen party before he casually allowed as how he might saunter in there with her, just to get his birthday kisses from the other ladies. Heather had rolled her eyes. Inside the powder room, she turned on him ... as he knew she would ... and suggested that instead of kisses, birthday spankings were the order of the day. What a bad girl she is! Dino took it like a man ... well, like a man who can give as good as he gets.

By the time he left, the hot tub was bubbling and the women were anxious to be alone ... and he knew without a doubt that the moment he was gone, they'd be dishing dirt on the men they hoped were going to be good little boys that night but whom they feared, somewhere deep inside, might be bad men. Of course, that very possibility was also something they conversely got off on ... in the abstract.

Well ... yeah.

It's not like this was something endemic to the female persuasion, he thought as he left the powder room.

Paul was at the bar, filling a tray with various concoctions ranging from diet soft drinks to martinis with double olives to one martini glass with nothing but olives in it. When Dino raised his left eyebrow and asked if Paul hadn't left something rather important out of the glass with only green olives stuffed with onions, Paul said, "Jessie. New craving."

"Tomorrow it'll be jelly beans in marmalade spread on rye bread."

"Don't even say that! She might hear you and then I'd have to go out to find jelly beans."

"Hey, that reminds me ... no leaving the joint tonight - no matter what. We clear?"

"Oooh. I love it when you get all GI on me, sir."

"Your role is very clear. But if you can't do it ..."

"I can! I swear ..."

"...then I'll get Jeff and ..."

"No! I'll be good, I promise. Cross my dick and everything."

"Let's go over it one more time ... at the designated time, you excuse yourself to refresh the ladies' drinks ... you come out here, you let the visitors in ... they know what to do from there. And last but far from least, you then call me at the appropriate time for this little war game."

"Let me just ask you one question, Dino. When you put on the camo paint, is green absolutely necessary? Because it really doesn't go well with my skin tone ..."

"You don't fucking need camo paint."

"Well, but that's part of the fun of playing war games with you and Terry ... isn't it?"

"Not for me."

"I'm so disillusioned."

"You just do your job or there won't be enough of your face left to worry about covering it with camo paint, you got me?"

"Ohhh. If you're gonna be like that ..."

"I'm serious."

"Roger wilco. Over and out. Aye aye, capitano. We who are about to obey, salute you."

"Don't push me, man ..."

"I got it covered, Dino. Get out of here. I'll call you when the going gets good."

Back Inside That Smoky Bar, Now Nearer That Stage With Poles

Dino looks over a specific assembly of men, gathered insouciantly around four largish tables taking up the space on the left "v" nook of the stage, giving them close up views of not one but three poles. Two poles are on the back section of the stage; one, which is where the featured dancer does her magic, is on the runway section of the stage.

He knows all these men, some better than others. They all interest him and that's in large part because he's simply interested in what makes people tick. But it's also because he is always on guard, even with those he considers friends.

Plus, the better he knows them, the easier it is to play the perfect game on any one of them ... or all of them.

He has his drink in his hand (Scotch, the good stuff) as he wanders nearer the gathering of men ... he'd even term nearly every one of them his friends, which elevates them to something special in his life.

Terry is already over at the tables, drinking a stout. He grins at Dino and then rearranges his face as he turns to face out toward the cluster of tables, suddenly serious ... that Queen Mother look that makes Dino smirk at the memory of how the first time he saw that look on Terry, he asked if there was another section of Terry's anatomy that tightened down just like his face when he did that. He also remembers Terry's reaction ... how his face tightened down even more, which only made Dino offer him some Preparation H.

It's between featured dancers so there's a lull in the noise level. The men have all been served another drink recently by scantily clad cocktail waitresses who know exactly how to get the best tips from male customers. This is only their second drink or so ... they're not that loose yet, although Arthur's already sweating and trying not to look too eager.

Dino, as the last arrival, proposes a toast. "To men, women and the eternal question that divides them: why can't a woman be more like a cigar?"

They all laugh, but most of them don't quite get the joke. Even Dino doesn't. Sometimes, he just wings it and the odder it sounds, the better. 

Jack Aubrey proposes the next toast, rising to his feet with a rousing "Gentlemen! Gentlemen!"

They pound their fists on the tables, manly men doing what manly men do when they're with other manly men.

"To women!" Jack roars out, while everyone raises a glass and tries to get ready for whatever will come. "As the old saying goes, one bird with a bush in your hand is better than beating around the Mulberry tree."

"Hear him! Hear him!" they yell out as the waitresses look at each other in confusion.

When the descending roar gives way to an easy lull in noise, Dino pipes up in his most sincere voice, "Terry? Hermano? Why the frown, amigo?"

"Some of us have been here before, out on a tear with other men, doing what men do ... and we have learned some lessons, haven't we?" Terry shakes his head sadly, wisely. "I ask you, gents, what is the single most irritating thing about a boys' night out?"

Zack calls out instantly, not even having to pause to consider, "The grilling we are gonna get the next morning."

"Affirmative," Terry says, loud enough to cut through the resultant grumblings of agreement with Zack's sage assessment. They are all looking at him when his tight face breaks into an evil little smile. "...which is why we need diversionary tactics. Head them off at the pass, you might say."

The men look at each other. Some are smiling ... because they have already guessed that Terry and Dino have, as is their want, planned a strategy to win this war.

"Rear guard action?" Maximus suggests, his glass of wine at his lips, which are curled into a superior smirk.

Terry mutters, "Max, your mind is always in the gutter." To which Max gives a slight bow.

But Dino says, loud enough for all to hear, "We are in sync, my friend."

And Terry follows with, "So we have set a few wheels in motion to ensure that not only do the girls have a fun night - and don't we wish them every bit of fun and games their little hearts desire? -- but also that they will be so fucking guilty that it will never even cross their minds to ask what we were up to."

Oh, how they like the sound of this so far!

But ... Terry is not finished ... he hops up on one of the chairs, raises his hands, calls for quiet ... then softly, so those gathered must lean in and listen to his words, he says, "AND - and this could be the most important result ... they will be horny and very eager to please."

Oho! They approve ... even not knowing the plan Terry and Dino have put into play, they definitely approve of the strategy. Ah yes.

A voice pipes up from the outer edges of the gathering. "Speaking of horny ..." Kim starts out but he stops when the other men throw whatever is handy (though they would never waste their drinks on him, so they toss peanuts and napkins and straws) at him.

"No one mentioned your name," Colin says.

And why would they mention his name? He has not even been introduced to the pub yet. Kim's appearance is, for the moment, information only the men have. They have let him come tonight mainly because ... well, they are not sure why other than that they have to grudgingly admit that now that he's shown up, he's got to be part of the group.

Cort fixes him with a look and says, quite firmly, "You have not yet earned your spurs."

"I.e., you have not yet been on the receiving end of any of these ladies' tongues," Terry says.

"Ooooh...nice visual, Terry," several of the men say.

"That was not exactly my point but take it and run with it."

But Kim is not one who is easily dissuaded. "Seems the most efficient way to go ... think I will."

John gives him a heavy look. "Shut up."

A few heartbeats later, Dino says, innocently in that way-too-wise way of his, "Of course, he could earn his spurs tonight ... in the time-honored tradition, boys...?"

Time-honored tradition, meaning: some humiliating rite of passage.

As Kim is up on stage, obeying the dancers' instructions to strip whilst doing various heretofore thought impossible gyrations ... the other men watch with interest only in ensuring maximum embarrassment for Kim. But until the women start stripping and dancing again, there is limited real interest in the stage.

Dino and Terry use this time to explain how they have set up the women back at the Come On Inn. And it involves male strippers ... in fact, it involves Paul letting in four male strippers who will enter the powder room dressed as constables on patrol ...

"Say what? Constables?" Nash asks.

"Cops," Terry says. "Policemen."

"Responding to complaints of lewd behavior and women cavorting in various stages of undress," Dino says. "Only in very short order, they will begin entertaining the ladies ... putting them in very compromising positions if witnessed by any of us ... and by any of us, I mean all of us. And to ensure we are there to witness and put them in said compromised positions, we will be alerted by Paul when the time is right for us to go there to see our lovely ladies, wearing nothing but bubbles from the hot tub, enjoying a bit of adult entertainment and perhaps even sampling the wares on display ..."

"But if we send in some men stripping to their shorts, say the girls enjoy themselves too much...I mean, can we stand the competition?" Arthur asks, paling at the very idea.

The rest of the men start laughing.

"I think that is one you are going to have to work out yourself, Artie, mate," Terry says as he takes a long swig of stout. "But, remember, we are men ... which means we are born with the self belief that we are god's gift to any woman...the word doubt never enters our head. Doubt is what god gave women to keep them coming back for more."

"And is the proof that God is indeed male," Dino says, ever wise.

Kim stumbles off the stage, dressing with a mixture of bravado and adrenalin. "What did I miss?" he asks when he reaches the group.

But he is shushed immediately as the music revs up loud and the next round of dancers ... women dancers ... round their poles and dig in for the long haul.

The men, meanwhile, are into the heavy drinking. This is, after all, half the reason they're there. The other half is to be varying degrees of naughty with women in various stages of nudity who invite most any attention these men may give that night. And the final half is that they are there for camaraderie, to celebrate Lachlan's recent marriage.

Oh, wait. That's three halves, isn't it? Naughty me. I never was a very good storyteller when I was drinking.

Back to the story, though, because that's why you're all here and there are no half measures about that, are there?

Kim, as we catch up with him, is sitting between Bud and Jack. He feels rather safe there. Certainly safer than between Hando and Maximus, who sweep their eyes over him every so often as if they are wondering about the most efficient way to kill him.

"So, Kim, you're an office boy, I think someone said," Bud says to him in between musical interludes.

"An office boy?" Kim says, sticking his chest out. "Assistant manager...acting..."

"Not what I heard. Maybe someone else here can vouch for you. So who's seen his film?" Bud asks around the table. Cullen doesn't say a thing but he hasn't said much most of the night. Egan shakes his head. John says he's never seen it. Jack says he has never even heard of it. Terry and Dino exchange looks. Johnny shrugs his shoulders.

Kim takes in the faces of the men at the various tables as they look at him rather blandly. "None of you has ever seen my film?" he asks, unbelieving.

They all shake their heads. Hando says he figures it was no great loss since no one ever talks about Kim. Jeffrey says he wishes someone could give them inside information on the film so they'd know a bit more about their newest arrival, who's been hanging around for a few weeks at the garage. Dom asks what's to know other than that he's a pain in the arse.

"But ... but ..."

"But?" asks Dino. "You wanna fill us in on the highlights of your film?"

Kim looks around, his eyes narrowed. He's got an idea. "It's a great film. Called 'The Efficiency Expert.' It's an action film. I'm the star."

"The star? Why does no one talk about your film then?" Lachlan asks.

Kim ignores the question. "It's about a man who's a hired killer."

"Contract guy?" Chili asks.

"Uh ... well, not exactly. He's the one they call in when it's got to be done right away, quick, efficient."

"Hence the title," Cullen helps.

"Yeah. That's right. I'm the expert. The efficient killer. But ... uh ... but it's ... oh ... I'm on vacation, though. I'm ... er ... oh ... I am scuba diving off the Great Barrier Reef and a group of women in a tourist boat get into difficulties ...," Kim says, now getting into the re-positioning of his film with enthusiasm as all the men are gathered near to listen in. "And, mind you, we are in shark infested waters. And the women are wearing sexy bikinis."

They are all enthralled. Tell us the rest, they beg him.

"There are 12 women and 16 sharks. Great whites. The women cling to me as, two by two, I kill the sharks," he says.

"That's very efficient," Bud says, patting Kim on the back.

"Yes, it was," Kim says.

"Where's the bit in the slipper factory? I am sure someone mentioned that...," Terry asks.

"Er ... the slipper factory?" Kim says, clearing his throat. Several of the men suddenly look at him through narrowed eyes, as if they suspect he may be making this up. "Oh! The slipper factory! Yes, well, you see, I get all the women back to their boat but the steering is damaged so we end up at a deserted pier ... and it's ..."

"Next to a slipper factory?" Maximus guesses, trying to be helpful.

"Yes! That's right." Now they all smile at him. He suddenly gets a brilliant idea and winks lewdly as he says, "They're, of course, bloody grateful to me for saving them. So inside the slipper factory, I show the other reason why I am known as the Efficiency Expert."

"You have it off with 12 women at once?" Hando asks, incredulous. "Howzat happen?"

"Well, not all 12 at once, mind you," Kim says quickly as he senses he's losing his audience's trust. "I did them six at a time, you see."

"I think Heather's mentioned this film before ... it sounds familiar," Dino muses. And then he smiles and gives Kim another drink. "Yeah, I remember now! Hey, so tell us that bit about how you romanced the girl from the other guy."

"Er ... well ... I chose the best looking girl and decided I wanted her to be my girlfriend after we left the slipper factory. Only problem was, she was engaged to some James Bond type Pom."

"A Pom?" Jack Aubrey asks, his voice rough and menacing.

"Er ... not a pom ... a Yank."

"A Yank?" ask all the Americans in the group.

"Er ... he was quite a bloke, though. Very difficult to take down and all."

"But take him down you did?" John asks.

So Kim proceeds to describe his karate moves in dispatching the romantic rival and the utter gratitude with which the damsel gave him sex once that was done.

"You really said 'piss off' to the James Bond guy?" Egan asks, obviously awed.

"Tell us a bit more about your sexual techniques ... six at once, you say?" Cort asks, amazed.

Even Terry seems impressed. He leans across the table to get Kim's attention. "Yeah, I could do with a few hints, mate...I barely got a sniff in my film ... one kiss in 180 bloody days."

Some of the other men commiserate with poor Terry Thorne.

"Hey...you know how many years I went without....three years....so many days and...," Max mumbles, shaking his head as his words trail off sadly.

"I was at sea for months," Jack Aubrey says. "There is only one woman in my film for a fleeting second."

"If you discount Killick," Hando says, smirking, as the others chuckle. "What I can never figure out is why so many of you losers never had any women in your films but you're considered studs now. Go figure."

"Good point," Cullen says, now interested in this aspect of the conversation. "So ... how many of you got it in your film?

"Nearly," Arthur says

"Hiding on the floor of your car outside a brothel in Kalgoorlie is not nearly," Terry reprimands him.

"I did," Colin says quietly.

"The living proof that it is the quiet ones you have to watch," Dino says.

They go round the tables. Johnny smiles. Hando does, too, but his smile is more of a leer. Cort shrugs and the others whistle because they've seen the European version of his film.

"Bloody preacher made sure he got some," Terry grumbles.

"Only once though," Jeffrey said. "I, of course, being happily married in the beginning of my film, enjoyed a much more active sex life."

"Prove it," Dino says and Jeffrey smiles into his beer, too much a gentleman to play that game.

"I am saying nothing," East says.

"He doesn't have to," Egan allows. "And I'll cop it upfront ... I got none."

"If you did, Trask, then it was bestiality and we are not counting that," Terry says.

"I am far too much a good man to tell tales out of the bedroom," Lachlan says, cocking his head to the side whilst buffing his nails on his manly chest. "But if any of you lot were taking notes during my film ..."

"And from more than one girl, did our newly married man get it, I might add," Dino says.

Since it's his night and they all love him on this night, they all pat him soundly on the head.

"Bud hooked up primo even if he had to get shot up in the end of it," Zack says. "Whilst I, though most deserving for putting up with that wacky woman, thus giving me every reason to be justly rewarded, got none."

"What about those not with us tonight?" Terry says. "Andy got it once but it sure wasn't sweet. Jeff nearly, but not quite, though he probably had more hand jobs than any of us."

Max frowns primly. "James Braddock. Happily and healthily married. My money is on Braddock as the one who wins this contest if frequency is the determinant."

"Biebe was married, too," Jack Corbett points out.

"Only once," John says softly as they all nod sadly at him. He looks up with a smile. "But it was worth waiting for."

"Hey, I had it in orbit," Alex calls out.

"Not sure it was fully consummated - and the rabbits don't count," Terry says.

"I got plenty," Chili states and who would argue with him? He shoots a look over at Nash, who hasn't said a word on this subject. "Nash got some."

"Do we also count the guy in the hall you were eyeing up?" Cullen asks. Nash smiles but never answers that line of questioning.

"Dom lost his virginity," Johnny says and Dom elbows him.

Terry winces. "...painfully by the look of it," he mutters.

"Are we forgetting anyone in the sweepstakes category?" Lachlan asks. 

They all look around. Steve adjusts his glasses and then slowly raises his hand. They all groan; he grins.

"Jesus. That's right. Steve got masses," Dino says. He points at the offending man in question. "Steve always gets plenty. Can anyone explain that to me?"

Zack offers only this: "Women? They are totally nuts."

Steve shakes his head and offers this wisdom: "Try being a dick...it works."

"So who do we declare the winner in this contest of manly action?" asks Maximus.

"Bud," Jack pronounces. "After all, we must award him appropriate bonus points as his lover was Lynn Bracken."

Who could say otherwise?

"Yeah, but I had more women than anyone," Steve says, always a dick.

They threaten him with a public strip session and Steve goes quiet.

But someone who shall be nameless to protect his balls mutters, "Steve and Cassie, now there's a couple made in heaven...."

"Do not point that one out..." Terry advises him.

And for a short while, they drink and again turn their attention to the dancers stripping on stage ... and to the women passing through the crowd in this smoky bar, offering other forms of entertainment.

But for two men who are ever observant of all that is going on around them and who are so dastardly when they are in cahoots with each other ... those two men have catalogued that one member of their group was largely not involved in much of what has been happening that night.

This man, Cullen, sits on the outskirts of the group. He sucks on a pale red ale and watches the stage with what appears to be almost lethargy. They know he can't be that drunk at this point ... and his reticence this evening is not only noted but questioned by those who note and question such things when with a group of their friends.

"Who would have thought Cullen woulda stayed out of the bragging contest?" Dino says to Terry, murmuring under cover of the music blaring around them.

"Shall we find out?" Terry responds.

They saunter over, taking seats on either side of their new and young colleague. He ignores their presence. They find that amusing. 

"That time of the month, Murphy?" Dino asks him, leaning over into his field of vision.

"Those who can ... keep their mouth shut at pity parties like this," Cullen responds. "Do you mind, mate? She's a might more fun to watch move than you are, red."

"Hmmm. Thought you'd at least talk about your more recent conquest," Terry muses.

Cullen cuts his eyes to Terry. "She's a nice kid," he says.

He rises and strides off to the men's room.

"Well, well. Gave the boy quite an opening there, hermano," Dino observes.

"Yeah. And he says nothing about the fair Esme, does he?" Terry says. "File that one away, shall we?"

"Well ... yeah." Dino stretches his legs out, leans back in the chair. When the lights dim a few minutes later, he starts chuckling.

"It's Helena time," Terry says. They both look around to locate Cullen, now walking slowly back to the tables.

"This is gonna be good," Dino says as Cullen nears, deliberately showing no fear of his bosses by reclaiming the chair between them.

"Oh, no, boyo," Terry says, grabbing the chair away from him at the last moment, sending Cullen sprawling on the floor. Terry offers a hand up and then he makes a show of carrying Cullen's chair to the stage and placing it facing Helena's pole, where she's slowly rubbing her still-mostly-clad body along its length.

"Final TOL initiation ceremony," Dino tells Cullen as he motions toward the chair on the stage.

Cullen groans and rubs his hand over his face.

"Bets, gentlemen!" Dino calls out to his compadres. "Company record is five minutes and I won't say which bastard sorely in need of Viagra lasted that long ... Terrence Thorne ... but who's taking odds on Cullen's time to withstand Helena's form of challenging a man's ability to concentrate?"

There are shouts of everything from five seconds to 10 minutes and money is laid down. Cullen groans again as he climbs onto the stage. He fixes Terry with a baleful look as he takes the seat and Helena slowly sinks to her knees before him.

They are all watching now. All of them. Helena runs her fingers down his jaw and then slowly unbuttons her shirt, allowing her ripe breasts to tantalize him as they swell out of the tiny lace cups of her bra. Cullen's eyes take in her body. But then he looks over at the gathered men. His eyes find Terry's. Neither man blinks.

The luscious Helena looks over her shoulder; Dino holds up the stopwatch, his thumb positioned ready to begin.  "The challenge is for Murphy to recite the protocols from the Crisis and Reponse Unit manual without allowing the oral attentions of the lovely lady to interfere with his concentration....an essential skill in this game....concentration, not delayed ejaculation, that is, although I have yet to hear any woman complain about one of my boys...this training has a sort of knock on benefit..." 

Helena gives him a thumbs up and turns back to Cullen. Then running one manicured talon down his chest until she reaches his belt and fly, she deftly unzips and slips her hand inside. Quick as a flash, he catches her wrist and eases her fingers out.

"Some other time, huh?" Cullen says, his soft burr making the words sound like aural foreplay to Helena. He cups her face with one of his hands and gives her an easy kiss on her pouting lips.

Cullen flips Dino a quick bird as he leaves the stage. 

"I win," Dino says to Terry.

"Fuck you," Terry says to Dino.

"You know you wanted me to win," he retorts.

"Well...yeah...." Terry copies his drawl with a smirk. "Looks like old Cullen did pass the test after all...who'd a thunk it?"

Cort hands Cullen a beer when he returns from the bar; Cullen looks at the proffered drink, hesitating for just a moment before accepting it. The two men nod in that way men have of enabling them to have the girlie talk of 'kiss and make up' without actually having to have the talk bit. Or the kiss either. And definitely no tears of joy at their new found friendship...

"Poor bastard...another one gets reeled in," Chili says to Max, indicating Cullen's strangely muted mood. Could he have Esme on his mind? Who said men couldn't be empathetic?

"You need a woman to love," Max says to Chili.

"Uhhh ... I don't think so," Chili says.

Johnny overhears and cannot resist the temptation. He leans back in his chair and calls out to the next table, "So what's with it with you and Miss D'Antonio, White? Or should that have been O'Brien?"

There's general amusement ... with a few notable exceptions. Chili, for one, who has been gone from the pub during recent weeks and hasn't a clue what Johnny exactly means.

Colin says quickly and tersely, "We're just friends."

"That's how I heard it, too," Bud adds in. "And I heard it from the lady in question."

"Lady?" Chili asks, snorting loudly.

Bud's jaw tightens in response and his eyes narrow as he stares at Chili.

They can all see trouble here ... Chili might have been able to cause Colin trouble when he objected to seeing the two of them together ... but even Chili wouldn't be so unwise as to force Bud into defending Michele's honor ... they might have just met, Bud and Michele, but after all, Bud is the kind of man who defends a woman's honor.

Johnny sees where his comment has led ... and comes up with the only thing he can think of to avert attention and trouble for Chili. "Hey, he's probably telling the truth. Colin's more interested in the girls who work at that spa of hers...Candy, Suzie, Monique, Ginger, Rosalee, Claudette, Evie, MariLu, Barbie, Dominique... did I miss anyone, Col?"

Colin grins.

The other men's eyes get big and they give him a rowdy round of congratulations and suggestions.

"It always helps to keep the boss sweet," Colin finally allows.

"So what have the masseuses got that Miss D'Antonio hasn't?" Terry asks.

"The inability to say no to me," Colin replies.

"You dirty bastard," Terry says, leaning in to clink his glass loudly. "Got to give it to O'Brien....he's quicker than he looks."

"Stop trying to be heroes...just get stuck in," Colin says.

They all hoot at him in response, except Kim who says, "I volunteer ... it's more efficient with two of us."

But Colin's no pack animal. He snarls in his quiet way, "Find your own hunting grounds."

Just then ... Dino's phone rings. He's chuckling when he looks down at it but he's all business when he answers with a terse, "Talk to me."

"Time to go loud, boys!" Paul yells out into his earpiece.

"I love it when he does that," Dino chuckles. He rubs his hands together after he puts the phone back in its holder at his belt. "Okay then ... time to go ruffle a few feathers..."

Later, Inside A Pub, Not Yet Facing A Hot Tub With Bubbles

A crowd of men stroll in ... they have all been drinking. Some, though we won't say whom, have been naughty. Others have just wished they could be naughty. And still others just had a rather normal night out with guys.

Terry and Dino are first through the door leading into the pub. They can hear rhythmic music coming from the other side of the closed door of the powder room. They smirk before getting their game faces on.

Paul rushes toward them from behind the bar ... he's wearing camo's and he's got green, black and brown stripes on his face.

"Yikes!" says John.

"Avast there!" says Jack.

"Holy shit," says Bud.

"He'd never have made it in the Air Force," says Lachlan.

"What's he smoking?" Jeffrey asks.

"Keep it away from me, whatever it is," East insists.

"I think he looks kind of butch," Cullen says.

"If we all go for him, we'll all be thwarted," Nash says.

"This was who you trusted with the women?" Egan asks.

"Is it fancy dress?" Terry asks of camo-clad Paul. "Pardon me, I didn't know."

Paul starts talking into his wrist. "Downtown One, this is Downtown Two ... ready to go down ..."

But as distracting as Paul is, Dino is undeterred. He puts his finger to his lips and calls for radio silence. Cullen puts his hand over Paul's mouth to ensure he does not give their position away.

The men sneak up to the powder room door and Dino nudges it, slowly, soundlessly. Soon, it is open just enough for him to peak inside. He is smiling when he turns around toward the other men. And with his professional knack, he widens the opening as the men crowd near, until the door is open enough that most of them are able to look in at the sight.

The music is blaring, bouncing off the tiled interior. Not only are the women unable to hear these men rustling about at the doorway over the sound of the music, but there is not one of them looking in their direction anyway. Instead, they are all ogling in the opposite direction ... ogling four OTT-muscled male strippers who have gone down to their thongs and who are even then dislodging a few female hands from their thighs and chests ... one of the strippers reminds the ladies, for what is probably the fifteenth time, that there is to be strictly no touching ... and that they have been warned under penalty of death to strip only to their thongs and no further.

There is general low murmuring from the on-looking men about having plenty of ammunition against their woman now.

"Boys ... we done good," whispers Dino.

"Dino, if this is not your best idea yet ..." whispers Terry and several men murmur agreement as Dino takes a short bow.

"Now what?" asks Lachlan.

"I think this is where I say: Roma victa!" Max growls softly.

"Well, rear guard was his specialty," Terry mutters.

Max cries out the sound of battle victory and the men burst loudly toward the hot tub.

The women quell at the unexpected intrusion ... but when they identify who the intruders are, they scramble.

"Eek!" shriek quite a few.

"Is this a panty raid?" whimpers one.

"Oh no!" moan a few of them.

"Someone throw me a towel!" cry several of the women.

"It's not what it looks like," say a few others.

"I swear I can explain," one woman says.

"It was the humidity," one inventive woman simpers.

"I think I have the vapors," another drawls.

"Someone put gin in my martini!" someone exclaims unconvincingly.

"Hey, Barret...here's your chance to break your record...what was it...twelve ladies six at a time...? Or was that two at a time? There must be at least fifteen girls here...O'Leary, you still got that stop watch...?" Zack shouts over as Carol winds herself round him.

Kim backs away..."Some other time, huh? Do I pass the test as well as Murphy?"

All answer: "No. Different test..." Kim tries to work that one out but the men soon lose interest in him as they receive the placatory attentions of their ladies...

Dino, who is not above making Heather wait on his reaction for a while, stands with arms crossed over his chest and observes the mayhem inside the powder room from the distance of the doorway. He says to Terry who stands next to him, "Total humiliation and we get to see them all naked."

Terry licks his lips. "You couldn't make it up, could you? Now watch these ladies grovel...sometimes I am so good that I surprise myself...."

"Yeah, well, that's the miracle of Viagra, pal..."