Fredrica's All-Night Pizza and Burlesque Saloon

You had to admit, falling into a job like this one was probably the last thing you would have imagined doing. In fact, after graduation, your mind had buzzed with all sorts of fabulous fantasies about careers that brought money and respect. This was neither of those. You were now security at an all night pizza place and robot strip club.

The call for the job couldn’t have come at a better time. The rent was late because of having to pay for a car repair, and the landlord wasn’t going to tolerate your usual excuses for much longer. And while you knew the vague outlines that the job entailed, it was still mostly a mystery, but, one that paid money, so it was good by you.

11:30 pm, you pulled your car up to the dingy building. It was located in an equally dingy part of the downtown. In this environment, you were lucky you were a big, rough looking guy. That’s probably what won the interview for you alone. As you walked into the doorway, you could hear music, and what sounded like live singing. You were stopped short of seeing the performance by a squat little man in an unkempt suit. “You the new guard?” he asked tiredly. You nodded and he gave a grin. “Good, I was startin to think I was gonna be stuck doin the nightshift by myself forever. Follow me, kid,” He waved a hand and motioned you down a dark little hallway. “I’m guessin they didn’t tell ya too much about the job? They never do. I’m feelin generous, so lemme show ya what your work’s gonna entail.”

The halls in the place were like a maze, but your guide was apparently an expert when it came to navigating them. Eventually he got you to a black door. A rusted sign stating ‘SECURITY’ was mounted on it, slightly askew. He pulled a ring of keys from the pocket of his baggy tuxedo slacks and shoved a key into the lock. The inside was a bit of a surprise. The entire front wall appeared to be a massive window, viewing the curtained stage and surrounding dining room. A large, heavily used looking desk sat behind the window, covered in clutter and a few dusty monitors, showing security footage of the places your window didn’t reach. “That’s a one way mirror. Don’t worry, unless your turn the lights up in here, no one will ever know you’re back here.” The little man’s induction was cut off by a sudden swell of music. “Oh hey, right on cue,” his crooked smile and beady little eyes locked onto the stage. You couldn’t help but watch as well.

When you were offhandedly told there were robots involved with this position during the interview, for some reason you had never envisioned animal robots. Perhaps that meant your head was on right, at least in this instance. But there it was, an animatronic chicken in a crystal encrusted gown, singing about some long lost lover or something. As you watched, she clamped the end of one of her arm length gloves in her beak and started to pull it off in rhythmic little jerks, shaking her hips in time with the music. She tossed it aside, then did the same with the other, resuming her singing once her mouth was no longer full. With a quick reach behind her back, the gown itself was released to the floor, underneath, a smaller skirt and and equally sparkly bustier, restraining her rather generous chicken breasts. A few more moves and the skirt was off, leaving her in black lace panties and thigh high stockings. The tune of the song went from being about love lost, to self empowerment, and with that, she ripped off the bustier, showing off and proudly spinning the glitter covered tassels affixed to her. While if this had been described to you without the visuals, you might have either laughed or been repulsed, your boner was not complaining in the least over the morals of finding a robotic bird attractive. There was something about her strangely fluid movements that made your body not care. With a little bow and a last spin, the curtains closed, and the few patrons, who had be hollering during the show, resumed chewing their pizza.

Your jaw was on the floor. The man beside you laughed and slapped a hand on your back. “That Chica’s really somethin, isn’t she?” You nodded slowly, processing your feelings about all that had happened in the last 5 minutes. “I got a good feelin about you, kid. I think you’re gonna like it here.”