It had been a long night at the Slime Light....

The Slime Light was the only gay bar in this small Midwestern town. It also was a biker bar. A gay biker bar. A place where if the DJ put on a Madonna record or some Cher, the patrons would drag him out of the DJ booth and fuck him over the pool table.

Nope, no disco at the Slime Light. Only hard rock, heavy metal and punk. And no fucking frilly girly drinks with umbrellas in them. The Slime Light only served straight booze, and only one brand of beer. (Domestic, of course.) Even ordering booze on the rocks was considered a little suspect here.

Loud-fast ruled at the Slime Light, in the music and in the sex.

Mark and Jack lived at the Slime Light....Well, they did at night. By day Mark was a welder and Jack ran a jack hammer on construction sites. (The dark secret was that Jack’s real name was "Percy", but if you called him that, you’d get your nose broken.)

Mark and Jack were both in their late 40s, but fuck...

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