...and then there were nine.

The music was thumping, the toned bodies of the sexy young dancers were glistening with a wild concoction of Bev's Bootylicious Body juice and salty sweat, the smell of thos bodies was driving Shandy wild - but there'd be plenty of time for post-show celebrating later, now she heeded to show the crowd what they came fore - hard tits, long legs and the moves as saucy as a XXX hot chilli tabasco. The crowd were perched on the edges of their gold-lame-padded retro kitchen chairs - this was going down as one of the wildest nights in the history of The Sassy Palms.

Shandy kept her back to the crowd. Her long toned legs jigging as she shook her buns of steel to the rhythmic Mayan beat. The stage was packed: Shandy, Iva Biggun, Lady Luck, Caress, Margot Bourgeois and the three dancers and then of course Carmene and Morty waiting in the wings. Ten little Mayan Indians having the time of their lives - and for one of them, that life was about to end. Snuffed out like the career of a former child-star who thought making a gay sex tape was a good idea at the time.

Shandy spun, hiding her face from the audience with her slender, perfectly manicured hands (nails painted in Mayan Musque for the occasion), she slowly drew her hands back, teasing the audience who were desperate to gaze upon her elegant visage. The music took a dramatic turn and Shandy pulled her hands back, flicked back her hair with the merest shake of her neck and strutted towards the audience. They were out of their seats, they were screaming - man this girl could lip-synch to 'The Road from Gundagai' and the audience would still lap it up.

It was one of those nights when performing is almost religious, Shandy shook it, shimmied and swung like no-one had for years. The timing, the electricity and the movement between all the performers was evident. The crowd were on their feet, screaming for more. The number finished and the Shandy and the other performers ran backstage, hot with exhaustion but high on the atmosphere.

Morty lit a cigar, 'Shandy darling I've seen some stuff in my time, but Baby you should be taking this one to Vegas.'
Carmene passed around handtowels, 'Don't smudge your make-up girls I think this crowd won't be going until they see some more.'

And she was right, the crowd was screaming for an encore.
Shandy locked eyes with Iva, 'Let's do it' and they all rushed back onstage to the rapturous applause of a dedicated crowd.

Franklyn hit the music and the lights and the performers swung back into action but suddenly Shandy froze. She'd been scanning the faces of the crowd, waving to the regulars, blowing flirtatious kisses to the gorgeous young things in the front row, making a wisecrack at the expense of the fat girl in the tiara - when someone caught her eye. The crowd stopped, everyone craning their necks to see who had caught the attention of Shandy and caused all that glorious post-orgasmic flush to drain from a face they all loved.

But it wasn't who had stopped Shandy in her tracks but what. A gleaming silver pistol - aimed straight at the stage. A single shot was fired, the crack deafening. There was confusion, some people laughing thinking this was part of the show - others screaming in blind panic desperate to flee. The performers dropped to the floor of the stage. The lights went out - the power had been cut. It was chaos, complete Mystique Mayan Mayhem throughout The Sassy Palms. It would take twenty minutes before anyone realised that a precious life had been lost on the stage of The Sassy Palms that night. A life drained away down the plughole of camp that was The SassyPalms. And then there were nine...