Stella Starr and the Road to Gangster's Paradise: Right in The Fruit Basket

Stella almost laughed at the fat man, standing there half naked with his doodle dangling for all the world to see, until she got a good look at his hands. Fatso had mitts that could rip phone books in half, and if she wasn’t careful, he’d get those mitts on her, too.

“Not so fas’, girlie,” Fatso slurred. “I paid for an hour, an’ we ain’ even started yet. You tryina’ chisel me or somethin’?”

“I’m only gonna say this once,” Stella said. “Take a powder or lose your plums, chum.”

“Uh-uh, girlie girl,” Fatso said, advancing on Stella. “I forked over alotta’ mazuma to the Mamasan so’s I could break you in, and I’m gonna’ get what I paid for!”

Stella let the fat drunk get closer. “OK…you ready for it, sugar daddy?”

Fatso stumbled forward, lips puckered. “You bet I am, baby doll.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Stella said as she chorus line-kicked Fatso hard in the family jewels.

The fat man made a sound like air being let out of a balloon, turned a bright shade of purple, and dropped like a sack of potatoes.

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