section7mfu | Undercover Uncovering - What's My Line?

Prompt - Too Hot to Handle

There was only one word which described the place, and Napoleon knew it covered almost all establishments of its type. The word was ‘seedy’. The particular strip joint made others he’d been in seem positively stylish. Not that Napoleon had been in many. For all he admired the female form, he had standards. Nobody took any notice of him as he made his way to a table, as close as he could get to the stage. Giving the hostess his drinks order, Napoleon settled down to await the courier who was delivering a microfilm to him. He smiled slightly to himself, imagining the raised eyebrows he would cause in accounting when he claimed reimbursement for the entrance fee.

Even though it wasn’t his sort of place, Napoleon very quickly began to enjoy the show. The girls were very good at what they did, and the audience definitely appreciated them. They didn’t reveal everything, of course, but what was left was hardly worth mentioning. After the third act had finished her piece, the compere walked onto the stage.

“We have a treat for you now gentlemen. For one night only, we have an artiste from the Big Apple. I just know you’re gonna love this sensual red-head. Please welcome, Miss Too-Hot-To-Handle.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and wolf whistles, as April Dancer slinked onto the stage. She was covered in dozens of chiffon scarves, which swayed hypnotically as she sashayed. Each piece of cloth was coloured red, orange or yellow; to give the effect of flame. Shimmying and gyrating, April plucked the scarves from her red leotard and began throwing them out to the baying crowd. Napoleon had to stop himself from sneering at the men who were behaving more like begging dogs.

April was well out of her comfort zone, and had made a promise to herself to find out who had set up this hand-off. As an experienced agent, she knew for a fact that there were easier, and just as secure, methods of handing a microfilm over. In the back of her mind, she felt certain that the person responsible probably had a thing against women being agents. However, she couldn’t worry about that until later.

Agent Dancer had spotted Napoleon as soon as she’d arrived on stage, but she had to play out her act, to avoid suspicion. She threw scarves to the men who were begging for them, and slowly worked her way towards Napoleon. When she was in front of him, April turned and wiggled her backside, knowing all too well how much Napoleon enjoyed a shapely posterior. Turning back to him, she plucked the scarf which had the microfilm sewn into the edge, from her leotard. April had known that her contact was going to be Napoleon, so had placed that particular scarf directly over, what her mother called, ‘her secret treasure’. Judging by the way Napoleon had crossed his legs, she knew she’d aroused something.

Winking suggestively, April held the yellow scarf out to him, but pulled it away again as he reached up. She shook her head and mouthed the word ‘beg’. Napoleon put his together, as if in prayer, and gave her his most dazzling smile. April returned the smile and tossed the scarf to him. He caught it with on hand and blew her a kiss with the other.

With the hand off completed, April completed her performance and left the stage. Napoleon waited until the next act had finished before he left. As he climbed into his car, he began to wonder if April would be available for private show.