Freddo slid down to the cavernous entrance, and hearkened to the dour sounds emanating from within the long dark hallway. He shuddered, drew his coat close, cursed and entered.
Mirrored balls reflected back the light, half-naked female trolls strutted their stuff across the floor, shaking their heavy booties to the throbbing pulse of extreme bass. They ran their hands across their hips, between their legs, alluring whatever filth the night could vomit forth. Freddo stared and drooled; lust and desire filled him, as the stench of tonic, cologne and perfume tore at his guts, he knew what he wanted.
As he walked by the bar, the familiar feeling of being totally ignored covered him, his anger rising like a fist in the tightness of his belly. The flashing smiles of rotted teeth were not for the likes of him. Even golem, vile and disgusting discards got lucky some time. But not Freddo, but that was all about to change, once he met with Goodgulp, one of the Lords of the Bling.
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Author: Tank Girl
All's Quiet on the Picnic Bench 
Larry Disher and the Temple of Foam 