I walk into the Blue Bayou in a Santa suit. It’s ladies’ night and a few days before Christmas. I’m here to win a bet. My frat brothers have collected a thousand bucks to see me sneak up onstage and do as much of my sexy Santa striptease that I can complete before getting thrown out of the place by some big, mean as fuck bouncers. I’d do pretty much anything for that kind of money, so I don’t mind risking a black eye or two. A grand is just enough cash for me to put a sweet bow on all my last-minute holiday shopping. The truth is, I’d do this for free. I love Christmas, I enjoy strip clubs, and I have no problem getting naked.

There’s a pretty sparse crowd inside, which makes what I have to do that much easier. Straightening out the pillow doubling as a fake belly under my costume, I head to the main stage. My timing is perfect. A firefighter act is wrapping up, and the music hasn’t quite come to an end. The boys start to clap loudly as I step up on stage and proceed to do my thing. Hands raise into the air. The only cluster of women in the place begins to applaud and whistle excitedly.

I’m feeling like a boss. My smile grows as I mentally count my money with the removal of each item of my costume, starting with the thick, black Santa belt. I whip the thing around like a pro for a while, until the pillow drops from my midsection. Removing it from under my suit, I fling it to the side stage area where my friends are congregating, to avoid hurting anyone who’ll give a damn.

The red velvet suit jacket is next to go. It leaves me shirtless, with just the red pants, my Santa hat, and black lace-up boots. The music changes over to an upbeat country western version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town. I realize I’m sexy as hell, but I’ve never heard a group of people scream as much as these ladies. At the rate they’re going, they’ll probably faint if I remove my tear-away stripper version of Santa pants. To keep them conscious, I wrap up with my Santa hat, flinging it into the audience, directly toward the raucous ladies.

That’s when I notice a few familiar faces.

The woman in the baseball cap that reads ‘Bride-to-Be’ looks just like one of the two sisters who lived on the street where I grew up. The hesitant girl next to her that they’re all pushing toward the stage proves it.

I squint to double-check.

Yes.

It’s Dakota and Dina all right, plus seven or eight of their loudest friends, I’d have to guess. They toast each other with shot glasses, and I notice three who have chosen something different to drink right afterward. One, a brunette, is chugging a beer. Another cradles a rum and Coke, and a third keeps refilling a shot glass with a bottle of Jack Daniels. Luckily, she seems to be slowing her rate of consumption. Otherwise, I might fear for her later on. For me to do my best, all of these lovelies need to be awake and alert. I would hate for my singular talent to go to waste on a bunch of boozers.

I give the ladies a wave and get back to my moves. Before I can finish my potentially award-winning performance, fate catches up to me. Three burly bouncers stalk toward the stage to get rid of me. I’m actually surprised it took them this long. Raising my arms to show them my readiness to cooperate, I step down and begin walking toward my friends, who have quickly made it to the exit.

There’s just one thing.

Dina is outside waiting for me with a leggy blonde I’ve never met.

“Oh, hey neighbor,” I greet her, eyebrows raised as I scan down the blonde’s body. My eyes make it back up to Blondie’s face, and I see she’s sizing me up too. Plus, her eyes linger around my groin area for a little longer than expected.

“Hi, Owen. Happy Holidays,” Dina replies.

I honestly cannot remember the last time she or her sister spoke to me. But then again, I live on campus now. I’m home for all of maybe five or six weeks a year.

“Same to you. And congratulations on the wedding.”

“Thanks,” she says, and nods over at her blonde friend. “Oh, right. Owen, this is Veronica, my best friend. Veronica, Owen.”

I extend my arm for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Veronica. Happy Holidays.”

“Thanks.” The ladies exchange another cryptic look, and Veronica tilts her head to one side. “So, uh, Owen. We have a dare going on. Do you remember Dina’s sister, Dakota?”

“Sure. She was just inside, right?”

“Yes. Her. Well, I have it on good authority that she’s into you. And we more or less dared her to have you…to let you…look, there’s no easy way to put this without it sounding shady as hell. We dared her to sleep with you. She’s pretty tipsy and she’s more or less willing. So, are you game? Oh, and I hope you like oral, because she’ll need some extra time in that general area.”

I look back and forth between the two ladies, wondering if this some kind of strange joke. “Is this some kind of strange joke?” I ask, just to get the awkwardness out of the way.

“It’s not,” Veronica says. “We’re at a strip club close to a college campus. A random hookup is no big deal. Is it a big deal for you, Owen?”

“Of course not,” I reply, shaking my head. “But it’s a bit weird not having a direct conversation with the person you’re looking for me to sleep with.” I turn to Dina. “Especially knowing the request is coming from her sister.”

“Well, we can’t be more serious. Between you and me, Dakota needs to get laid. Urgently. Here’s what I’m thinking. You get your regular clothes back on. You go back in there and ask her to dance for a couple of songs, and…” she pulls out a hotel key card. “You get her over to room seven twenty-five at this hotel, and work your magic. Easiest hookup ever, no?”

“Just make sure you wrap it up,” Dina adds, smiling as she glances down at my groin for a split second. “And you’re welcome.”

I look around at my friends. The bastards have overheard the whole thing, and are laughing their faces off. Chad calls me over.

“Excuse me for a minute,” I tell the ladies and head over to the boys. “What’s up?”

Chad reaches into his pocket and retrieves a strip of fold-out condoms. “Keep it wrapped,” he says, throwing the strip to me.

“What the hell makes you think I’m game?”

He huffs out a skeptical laugh. “You’re game, dickhead. You’re game.”