Alien Appetite
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 457

“Set me up with a stiff drink, Vinnie. I feel like it’s going to be a big night.”

“How are you going to be paying me this time, Lou?” the bartender said.

“You know me, Vinnie,” the customer said. “If I’s ain’ got the money, I’ll find something you need. You can rely on me.”

Vinnie knew that he would end up with something worth less than the value of the amount Lou would drink, but there was just something about that smile that made Vinnie not seem to care.

“Okay, scotch on the rocks?”

“You’re a champ, Vinnie.”

Lou lit a cigarette, and then took a sip from his drink, while he scanned the bar. Transformer's was the most extravagant nightclub in Brisbane. Decorated with movie memorabilia and split into different themes across the huge venue. Lou’s favourite was the glassed in room decked out with airline chairs, even though it was a non-smoking area. The dance floor was situated under a floor to ceiling array of TV screens, always playing the latest and funkiest tunes on the charts.

The best thing about Transformer’s, was the clientele. Lou ended up with a beauty on each arm at the end of the night, every night.

“Hi there,” a husky voice said seductively.

Lou turned to face the woman, who was drop dead gorgeous and blonde. He was in the mood for something more exotic and spicy, maybe an Asian or Indian, so he flickered his eyes and turned her away.

“Sorry to bother you,” the blonde said, handing Lou two twenty dollar bills. “Please forgive me.”

“No problem at all,” Lou said, pocketing the cash and slapping her on the rump as she walked away.

He squashed his cigarette out and grooved over to the dance floor. The women began to gravitate towards him and gyrated their hips against him. Lou beckoned a woman who looked like Halle Berry over, then another with the same face as Angelina Jolie, the rest, he sent back to their partners.

He let the two beauties buy him, and themselves, drink for a few hours, then left the nightclub with them on each arm. They giggled and laughed in the cab and began kissing him, and each other, almost distracting the driver into an accident before arriving at Lou’s Mansion overlooking the Brisbane River at Hamilton. The building sat high on the hill, giving Lou ample space to build a maze of soundproof dungeons beneath his home.

The women followed him willingly, almost eagerly, to their respective cells, where they would remain until his appetite required their presence, and flesh.

THE END