With one icy hand he grabbed the stripper pole and swung his hips to Bing Crosby’s voice crooning over the club’s PA system. A gang of bikers crowded the club. Every seat was filled with tattooed, leather jacketed, pierced members of The Crack Pipe Kings Motorcycle Club. They had been here all night, just like last night and the night before. Frosty didn’t know why they were always there. He figured they liked the girls of the club and he was a snowman. But he seemed to be their favorite and they did tip very well. The stage lights illuminated his snow body and the crowd went wild. They cheered, clanked beers, and head butted each other in excitement. Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul. Blue sequin bikini briefs glittered in the spotlight on his pelvis. The light was hot and Frosty could feel his snow beginning to melt. Fortunately, his dances were only four minutes long. He began to dance around. That was his cue. He turned slowly, facing the audience, reached down sliding his finger under the special Velcro strap and quickly tore off the briefs revealing his smooth snowman physique.
