~Brick Strip Club~

the "Foxy Blox" strip club
[somewhere in upstate New York]

Citizen Brick "Center for the Performing Arts" MOC build with minifigs.



pole dancer "Honey Wells."



older stripper "Teabag Tammy."




and Buck, the bouncer





LET the FUN BEGIN !! notice the dude in the back getting a blowjob



upstairs whorehouse, bananas make for great cocks too



this version is called "Exposure."



note the age-group for this {NOT}

Being a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman, you try many stupid things, like using the hoover as an auto-fellating device. Rich, my sales manager, had been making challenge-goals for me to live up to, which was one of the strangest. He and I each took our respective hoover into separate rooms by ourselves. Rich wanted to conduct the test with both of us, but I told him this was far too homoerotic for me to handle, and I refused. No, we would use the honor system. Once the vacuum cleaner made one of us ejaculate, we would run to the other's room to announce it.

Preparing myself for this challenge, I stripped off, naked from the waist down. Revving up the expensive hoover, we sell to homemakers for over a grand. It didn't sound enjoyable! Starting to lower the nozzle of it down upon my genitals, but I had to stop. There was simply no way I could go through with this. I was not putting my wang anywhere near that monster. As it happens, Rich burst into the room a second or two later anyway.

"That was fucking awesome, man. Always does the trick in a couple seconds. I'll share the fucker to you sometime." Rich tells me what a fun time he had with his hoover, alone.

"All right, dickweed, you win. What's this new job you found for me then?" I asked Rich. He knew I was not making crap selling these hoovers to lonely old biddies stuck at home, and he told me that's where all the "action" is at. Old cunts, right!

"How about being a Strip Club DJ. as a side hustle?" Rich asks me, "There is a steady supply of tits and ass to see."

I stared at him for a second, waiting for him to say, "Just joking." But it appeared that he was serious.

"You're fucking with me here, Rich?" I really wanted to know what in the hell he was up to now.

"I swear I'm not. You know the place I hang out some days, the peeler bar, Foxy Blox?"

I did know the place. Rich always tried to get me to go there, and I always refused in no uncertain terms. The joint was a real dive, and the drinks were costly.

"Well, I overheard two of the managers there talking the other day," Rich continued, "and they were stressing about how they needed another D.J. real bad. And I thought of you and your predicament."

"Why don't you do it?" I asked him.

Rich looked at me, incredulous that I had even imagined he was capable of holding down such a job.

"OK, fine. But why me?" I said.

"You've got a great fucking voice, dude! I've always thought to myself: Wow, Rick should do something with those pipes of his. But, seriously, man, I have." Rich was really buttering me up for this gig.

"I don't think I want to work at a peeler bar." I told him.



"Hey, are you reneging on our challenge here? Are you? It will be your last one, I swear." Now, Rich had me hooked into this.

"All right, fine. I'll apply for the job. But only because of the challenge, all right?" I resigned myself to it.

The club was right outside of town. Walking in, the middle of the afternoon and the place had barely four patrons. I walked up to the bar where an obese middle-aged lady was working, sweating buckets as she dried off bar glasses.

"I'm here about the D.J. job, ma'am." I was trying to get her attention from her task.

She only pointed at the D.J. booth across the room when I mentioned the lack of suitable 'stripper' music being played.



"Speak to Buck." was all I got out of the dumb cunt.

I walked up to the booth and introduced myself to the chap who was sitting there.

"Hi I'm Rick. I'm here about the D.J. job."

"Hey man, good to meet you. they call me Buck."

"I gathered that." not trying to look stupid.

Buck seemed nice enough, a little questionable in his dress sense, maybe. He was wearing black acid wash jeans with a light blue acid wash jacket. Now, if you want to see bad fashion sense, this town should be one of your top destinations. Still, this is the only time I've ever come across an acid wash ensemble of fashion.

"So can I get an application form?" I asked him, wanting to be legit.

"Nah, nah it's not like that. I'll set you up at the mic and see what you've got. Do you need some water or something? Or are you happy just to have me put you on right now?" Buck asked.

I wasn't mentally prepared to talk shit on a microphone at a half-empty tittie bar, really. But, on the other hand, am I realistically Strip Club D.J. material anyway? So, having nothing to lose, I sidestepped Buck and got up to the mic.

"All right, guys what do you say? I got some hot looking babes here! You want to see more?" Desperate to gin up the four dudes who looked half asleep.

I threw on some AC/DC, got one of the girls out on stage, and told the fellers to show her some lovin'.



It worked. Buck looked over at me, just a smilin'.

This was not going to plan. It seemed suddenly like I was on the verge of getting this job I really did not want.

Buck showed me to an office in the back of the club. He is a fat man with a lot of gold jewelry, lots of body hair to go along with, and not on his head. I gathered quickly that he was the owner of Foxy Blox club. Buck briefly told him that I was the D.J. for the job before the boss dismissed him. I stood there in front of him, waiting for him to say or do something for about sixty seconds.

"Sit down," the boss man finally muttered.

I did so in the seat across the desk.
"You start on days. Pay is shit, fifty bucks a day, but if you play your cards right with the chicks you'll make at least triple that in tips. If you don't suck, after a month I'll move you to nights. You start tomorrow, 11 AM."

That was all the boss said. So that was that then. I was now a Strip Club D.J. ready to see some titties and ass.
I went over to Rich's place to break the news. He was somewhat pleased, shall we say.

"Dude! This is the most awesome thing that has ever fucking happened in either of our lives to this point!" he tried his best to make this the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Rich insisted, "Man, I have a friend who works at the peelers! So I now have the God-given right, nay, nay, the God-given duty, to hang there most days from now on!

To which I would say to him, "Rich, you already do hang there most days."

And he seemed to take me getting the job at the Strip Club as some personal vindication. It was as if having a friend who was about to make a living talking shit in front of naked women somehow elevated his status in society.

I woke up, trundle off to my first day as a Strip Club D.J. When I arrived at the Foxy Blox, the boss was less than impressed with my state of dress than the day before. I hope he doesn't can me before I play my first song.

"You look like you went out and got shitfaced last night." His powers of observation were keen. "Couldn't you have at least fucking shaved?"



My first stripper girl picked Honey Wells as her stage name. But, unfortunately, that's all I knew about her, as she had failed to turn up at the appointed time.

"Looks like your girl seems to not to have shown up." Buck teases me.

"Are you offering to help me with this quandary?" I bark back.

Buck pointed his finger at the dressing room the girls use while getting ready between shows. He necked the rest of his beer and then walked out of place. He walked to the back of the Foxy Blox and, in less than half a minute, came out of the dressing room firmly holding the right arm of what looked like a woman who could definitely pass for Honey. She finished walking over to the stage and began her routine. I had to scramble a little to find a song for her to dance to.

"Right, guys, she's here, she's uh, hot, and she's here," I mumbled into the microphone. The boss shook his head, annoyed at my inability.

I spent the rest of the day struggling through it, all the while getting Buck's life story in my left ear. He had worked at Foxy Blox for almost a year. He claimed to have slept with all of the strippers and most of the waitresses in that time. His whole life seemed to revolve around the club.

I wish I could say that I quit after that first miserable day, but I didn't. Instead, I ended up working there for four long months. The truth is, I just really needed the job. Every time I thought about packing it in, my options were limited. The Strip Club, despite its considerable downsides, was the only natural choice.

The girls who worked at the place whom I got on with tended to be college students. Ones who somehow imagined that they could dip their toe into the wild world of stripping. As some social science experiments while simultaneously paying for next year's tuition fees. Before inevitably finding out that the whole set-up was much uglier than they could have ever previously imagined. These types never stuck around for very long, and wisely too. I tried to date several, but going out with an employee of Foxy Blox was the last thing they wanted, again quite wisely.



I was eventually sacked. Bizarrely, sleeping with one of the strippers was strangely part of all the D.J.s contract.



Enjoy your build! B.rick