“Yes, officer, that’s right. Carina Celina Cristina Margarita Sabrina Mutante y Bailarina del Infierno. But most people call me Chica Mutante. Grace—she’s the one on the pole right now—she’s AMAZING. She and I are the only Boners Girls left. The pedos viejos who used to stop in on their way home from the office, they’re mostly gone. A dying breed. It’s almost all direct-to-video or live streaming now.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Chica. Anyone with two left feet in the area you might have seen on a regular basis but haven’t recently?”
“Not that I can think of. Other than the pole here, these legs don’t get around very much. My patellar aplasia makes sure of that. Have you checked in with the cast of Days of Our Past Lives? If their acting’s any indication, their dancing’s probably pretty awful.”
“Thanks, Chica. I’ll check in with them. I hope business improves.”
“So do I. Even if it does, though, it’s still lights out for us this Christmas.”
“Why’s that?”
“They’ll need them for the tree.”
We’d like to thank the following non-paying advertiser for not sponsoring this chapter:
Mr. Funny Bones 
Any relation to Barbie? She can’t bend her legs either!
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