Fire Crotch

I’m behind the bar, steady crowd, I approach a regular, yeah, what can I get you? She says, Cliiiiiint. Can you make me a specialty martini?  My own concoction. Sure, I say. As long as you know the ingredients. She says, Baileys, Buttershots, and Fireball. Got it, I say. I go and make her extra-special martini. I come back, put the martini glass in front of her, and pour. You know, I say. I got the perfect name for this martini. She says, do tell. I go, call it Fire Crotch. She laughs. Hey, we got the Pineapple Slut, the Mango Slut, the G-Spot, why not the Fire Crotch?

She says, I like it.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

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