said Holly.
“What?!” exclaimed Sloane sounding disappointed.
“Someone has to make sure we all get back to the hotel room safe!” Holly said as she fought off the glaring reactions she was getting from Sloane, Gloria and Philomena.
“Suit ya’self, honey,” said Philomena. “I’ll have a Tom Collins!”
“Oh, honey,” said Gloria with an exasperated look on her face. “You’re living in the dark ages. Bartender… Get this woman a mango martini. Make that two!”
***
“How much snow are we supposed to get this weekend?” asked Marv as he admired the peaceful, snow covered landscape outside of his passenger window.
“Last I heard, 12-14 inches…” replied Luke.
“Tony Merrento said 3-6,” corrected Artie.
“In the city… Up here, we’re expected to get over a foot,” corrected Brant.
“Why the hell are we coming up here then?!” Arthur demanded to know as his lip curled in distaste.
Luke eyed Arthur in the rearview mirror and said with a smile to his future father-in-law, “I love the snow. Don’t you?”
Arthur stared at Luke for a minute, unsure as to whether he was joking or not.
“Are we there yet?! What is taking so long?!”
“We are only in Plymouth Meeting! We left a half hour ago,” explained Marv feeling as if he was dealing with an overgrown child. “Brant! Max volume on the radio! Arthur’s not having any fun yet!”
“Don’t worry,” said Luke with a mischevious smile on his face, “His boredom won’t last long.”
As Billy Idol belted his Rebel Yell , Arthur took his traveling pillow and blocked out the sound.
***
Holly and Sloane pulled Philomena and Gloria out to the middle of the dancefloor in the packed Protégé club inside of the Atlantica Casino and Resort. The music was loud, and as the strobe lights cut through the darkness, the base of the music acted like a heartbeat for the club. Sloane and Holly twirled each other around, ignoring the male attention they were starting to attract.
A serious man dressed in all black had his eyes on Holly and Sloane. He watched from a balcony above, looking down upon them with no happiness in his eyes. He scrutinized them as he adjusted his gold chain and stretched out his arms showing off his many gold rings and watches. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of the pair of women. Suddenly, a young man dressed in all black approached Holly and Sloane.
“Please pardon this interruption. Mr. Giancola has requested the delight of your presence in the Velvet Suite.”
Sloane gave the man a dirty look.
“Who the hell is Mr. Giancola, and who the hell are you?”
“My name is D’mitri Romanoff and Mr. Giancola owns this casino.”
“I have no intentions upon going up to the Velvet Suite. Tell him to recruit some other bar flies.”
D’mitri grabbed hold on Holly’s arm and Sloane saw red.
“Relax, Sloane…” Holly urged. “Mr. Romanoff, I recommend you take your hands off of me.”
“Or what, sugar?”
“When my husband finds out you put your hands on me, you can be sure that he’ll be here to pay you a visit.”
“It’s of no consequence to me. Now let’s go!” D’Mitri said as he yanked on Holly and Sloane’s arms.
“Get off of me!” yelled Holly.
Holly’s cry caught the attention of Philomena who was doing the hustle in the middle of the dance floor with Gloria.
“Hey, you!” Philomena yelled, “You there, get your filthy paws off my girls!”
D’Mitri didn’t even look at Philomena as he pushed Holly and Sloane into an elevator that went straight to the top floor where Mr. Giancola was waiting.
Gloria and Philomena sped up and just as D’Mitri was about to enter the elevator himself, Philomena pulled off her fire engine red pump and clocked him in the head with it.
“Crazy old bitch!”
“You messed with the wrong girls!” Philomena shouted.
“C’mon girls, let’s go!” Gloria said.
As Gloria, Sloane and Holly escaped the seedy night club, Philomena continued to flog
“What?!” exclaimed Sloane sounding disappointed.
“Someone has to make sure we all get back to the hotel room safe!” Holly said as she fought off the glaring reactions she was getting from Sloane, Gloria and Philomena.
“Suit ya’self, honey,” said Philomena. “I’ll have a Tom Collins!”
“Oh, honey,” said Gloria with an exasperated look on her face. “You’re living in the dark ages. Bartender… Get this woman a mango martini. Make that two!”
***
“How much snow are we supposed to get this weekend?” asked Marv as he admired the peaceful, snow covered landscape outside of his passenger window.
“Last I heard, 12-14 inches…” replied Luke.
“Tony Merrento said 3-6,” corrected Artie.
“In the city… Up here, we’re expected to get over a foot,” corrected Brant.
“Why the hell are we coming up here then?!” Arthur demanded to know as his lip curled in distaste.
Luke eyed Arthur in the rearview mirror and said with a smile to his future father-in-law, “I love the snow. Don’t you?”
Arthur stared at Luke for a minute, unsure as to whether he was joking or not.
“Are we there yet?! What is taking so long?!”
“We are only in Plymouth Meeting! We left a half hour ago,” explained Marv feeling as if he was dealing with an overgrown child. “Brant! Max volume on the radio! Arthur’s not having any fun yet!”
“Don’t worry,” said Luke with a mischevious smile on his face, “His boredom won’t last long.”
As Billy Idol belted his Rebel Yell , Arthur took his traveling pillow and blocked out the sound.
***
Holly and Sloane pulled Philomena and Gloria out to the middle of the dancefloor in the packed Protégé club inside of the Atlantica Casino and Resort. The music was loud, and as the strobe lights cut through the darkness, the base of the music acted like a heartbeat for the club. Sloane and Holly twirled each other around, ignoring the male attention they were starting to attract.
A serious man dressed in all black had his eyes on Holly and Sloane. He watched from a balcony above, looking down upon them with no happiness in his eyes. He scrutinized them as he adjusted his gold chain and stretched out his arms showing off his many gold rings and watches. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of the pair of women. Suddenly, a young man dressed in all black approached Holly and Sloane.
“Please pardon this interruption. Mr. Giancola has requested the delight of your presence in the Velvet Suite.”
Sloane gave the man a dirty look.
“Who the hell is Mr. Giancola, and who the hell are you?”
“My name is D’mitri Romanoff and Mr. Giancola owns this casino.”
“I have no intentions upon going up to the Velvet Suite. Tell him to recruit some other bar flies.”
D’mitri grabbed hold on Holly’s arm and Sloane saw red.
“Relax, Sloane…” Holly urged. “Mr. Romanoff, I recommend you take your hands off of me.”
“Or what, sugar?”
“When my husband finds out you put your hands on me, you can be sure that he’ll be here to pay you a visit.”
“It’s of no consequence to me. Now let’s go!” D’Mitri said as he yanked on Holly and Sloane’s arms.
“Get off of me!” yelled Holly.
Holly’s cry caught the attention of Philomena who was doing the hustle in the middle of the dance floor with Gloria.
“Hey, you!” Philomena yelled, “You there, get your filthy paws off my girls!”
D’Mitri didn’t even look at Philomena as he pushed Holly and Sloane into an elevator that went straight to the top floor where Mr. Giancola was waiting.
Gloria and Philomena sped up and just as D’Mitri was about to enter the elevator himself, Philomena pulled off her fire engine red pump and clocked him in the head with it.
“Crazy old bitch!”
“You messed with the wrong girls!” Philomena shouted.
“C’mon girls, let’s go!” Gloria said.
As Gloria, Sloane and Holly escaped the seedy night club, Philomena continued to flog
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