Nancy II by Tom Adams

Muscle Worship moves into big time religion, sort of (Please read Nancy I first. This is a direct sequel).

Nancy is sitting on the bar stool. Frank comes in and sits down on the stool next to her. She smiles as she sips her scotch and water. Ah, more muscle worship, more money, remembering Frank's five hundred dollar "contribution".  She offers to buy him a drink, but he turns her down. Frank is very excited, and he has that "wide grin" he had the first time she saw him. "Mr. Wide Grin".

"Nancy, we need some muscle worship."

"Did you say "we", Frank?"

"Yes, yes, I did. The whole group is very excited about the muscle worship."

"And just who is "we", Frank?"

"My Sunday school class at church."

Nancy almost chokes on her drink. Ted, the bartender, has to cough and clear his throat to keep from bursting out laughing. Nancy shoots him a "drop dead" look. He manages to keep a straight face and goes back to polishing glasses and arranging liquor bottles on the shelves.

"Now let me get this straight, Frank. You want me to come to your church so the whole Sunday school class can participate in muscle worship. Did I hear you right?"

"Almost, Nancy. But instead of the church we thought that one of the member's homes would be the place to start. This is sort of new and some people at the church might not understand."

Understatement of the century, Frank. Definitely, the understatement of the century.

At this point, Ted, the bartender, can't control himself any longer. He goes to the bathroom, closes the door and laughs until tears run down his face.

Meanwhile, back at the bar, Nancy is temporarily speechless, a highly unusual situation for her. In fact, this may be the first time ever. But it only last for a moment.

"What about this member's wife and children? Surely they won't be in the house."

"Don't worry, Nancy. He's a bachelor."

Thank God.

"Nancy, I'm telling you not to worry. I just want the other members of my Sunday school class to have the deep spiritual experience I had. And it will go smoothly. I've thought of everything. Trust me, everything."

Right! You idiot. This could wind up with me making a lot of money. And it could wind up with me being tossed out the door in my underwear after being condemned to hell fire and damnation. And you along with me, Frank. You jerk. Did you think about that when you "thought of everything?"

"Nancy, it's set for this Sunday afternoon. Is that OK with you?"

Nancy hesitates. She's doing some serious thinking while drumming her fingers on the bar with one hand and sipping her drink with the other. She wonders how much Frank has told them. Probably quite a bit and they're probably  just using him as a fool to provide some free entertainment. 

No, on second thought, being condemned to hell fire and damnation is remote. Giving a "free" performance is a real possibility. To go or not to go. Oh hell. Let's make this decision the scientific way.  

Ted, the bartender, has regained his composure and is back at work.

"Ted, loan me a quarter for a moment, please."

Ted flips Nancy the quarter. She promptly flips it in the air, lets it fall on the bar and, along with Ted and Frank, watches it spin around for what seems an endless amount of time. It turns up heads.

"I'm in, Frank."

"Great!"

"I just love the way you make decisions, Nancy," says the bartender.

"Shut up, Ted."

3:00pm Sunday afternoon. Frank drives Nancy over to the house where the muscle worship is to take place. They pull over to the curb, getting as close to the house as they can. There are cars everywhere. Both sides of the street are lined with them.

"I thought you said it was just your class, Frank, not the whole congregation."

"It does look sort of odd, Nancy."

Nothing odd at all, Frank. When word gets out there's going to be some type off free strip tease, it tends to draw a crowd.

Frank rings the door bell which is quickly answered by the home owner, a tall man named Jack who takes one look at Nancy and doesn't seem to notice Frank at all.

"You're Nancy?"

"Yes."

"Nancy, come in. We're glad you could find the time to lead us through the session."

"It's called muscle worship, Jack," says Frank, trying in vain to get the man's attention.

"It's a spiritual event, Jack, not a session."

"Jack. Jack!"

But Jack is already leading Nancy through the house, explaining that so many people showed up for the "session" that it's being held in his back yard. But he assures her the high fence that completely surrounds the yard will provide sufficient privacy.

As they enter the crowded back yard a roar of applause and cheers goes up. Most of the men are drinking beer and there's fairly loud music blaring from a PA system. The tune is the type usually associated with a strip tease, "bump and grind" music they call it.

When the cheers have almost stopped Jack says, "Men, this is Nancy," and the cheering and applause start all over again. Frank tries to quite everyone down, telling them this is supposed to be a spiritual experience observed in complete silence. No one hears him, the noise so loud he can't hear himself. He gives up and sits in a corner of the yard, his chin in his hands.

Nancy slips out of her shoes and goes into one of her sexiest routines. She wearing a skirt that stops just above the knees and she grabs the sides of it and slowly pulls it up exposing more and more of her shapely, muscular legs. As she does so she slowly and seductively flexes the muscles in her thighs and slowly rises to her toes to get the maximum curve in her calves.

In fact, every move she makes is slow, very slow and seductive, sexy, arousing, provocative, sensual, teasing, enticing. You would run out of adjectives describing it. Nancy unbuttons her skirt and lets it fall to the grass. Her blouse stops several inches above her black, bikini panties. She pulls the blouse up so the men can see about half of her hard, flat stomach and flexes her six pac abs in a belly dance fashion. 

The cheers are so loud now that a group of neighbors has pushed its way through the crowd to tell Jack they're calling the police if the noise keeps up. Jack assures them that the men will settle down real soon, knowing that even if they don't, the dance will be over before the police can get there. About half the neighbors who were complaining take a good look at Nancy and decide to become part of the problem.

Nancy takes off her blouse and flexes her arms, shoulders and back and then as a grand finale winds up flexing every muscle in her body.

After the applause dies down, some in the crowd ask about the "session", that Frank had said something about a "session". "Muscle worship, you idiot," mumbles Frank.

Nancy thinks fast. "I want all you men to take off your shirts and show me your biceps, that's what the session is all about. And don't be bashful, even if you're not in shape. Everybody takes part in the session. Everybody." Everyone has had a few beers by that time and even the fat bodies take off their shirts and start flexing.

Nancy passes through the crowd and feels a few men's biceps and then hurries back to the front before anyone gets the idea it's OK for them to feel her muscles. "That's it men, she says in closing. I've enjoyed my stay and I hope you have also." This, of course, meets with another round of cheers as she puts on her clothes.

"Attention, everyone. I need your attention. This is important." It's Jack, the home owner, shouting.

"As you know, this was to be a free event. But this lady was so damn good I'm passing some buckets around for you to show your appreciation. And I mean folding money. I don't want to hear any metal hit the bottom of one of these buckets. And let's hear a round of applause to Frank for bringing Nancy over." More cheers and a lot of men go over and shake Frank's hand or slap him on the back. Frank still looks mortified.

Frank and Nancy are driving away just as the police arrive. Many of the men have already started for their cars. Jack had that one timed to perfection.

Nancy's eyes widen as she starts counting the money in the buckets.

"My God. There must be four or five thousand dollars here. Half of it's yours, Frank. You made this happen."

Frank doesn't say a word. Looks straight ahead. Keeps driving Nancy back to her suite at the hotel where she's a highly paid dancer.

"There never was any such thing as muscle worship, was there, Nancy?"

"Yes there is, Frank. It's part of the dance routine I do at the hotel. You saw it this afternoon."

"But there's nothing spiritual about is there?"

Nancy hesitates for a moment, looks down, ashamed of herself.

"No, Frank. There isn't."

"Why did you tell me there was? I've made a fool of myself at the church."

"Frank, I'm sorry. I really am. It was just a joke that got out of hand."

Now it's Frank that hesitates for a moment. He's also ashamed. For being such a fool. Frank can be very smart when he's not being a fool. Sort of a dual personality. He read a book one time. The subject was how to turn any bad situation into an opportunity. And Frank thinks there just might be major opportunity in this.

Frank looks at Nancy and smiles. She's surprised. There's something about him that's completely different from a few moments ago.

"Nancy, maybe I made a fool of myself at the church. But I can smooth that over. In fact, there may be some more four thousand dollar payouts for both of us. Are you in or out?"

Nancy returns the smile. "No coin toss required, Frank."

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