Brooklyn's hottest club is...
Ah, yes, of course...
If you are a deeply heterosexual man hoping to see many, full, supple breasts, Brooklyn's hottest club is BOOOOOOONE! This unlicensed drinking establishment is located in the back of a disused building that is not zoned for commercial enterprises. Should you desire entry, you must first talk to the man dressed as a security guard, but do not worry: he is not actually a security guard. Rather, he is a known felon that "beat the rap" by giving up Larry Paladino of the Paladino crime family after Larry slept with his wife. That is right: the bouncer is a snitch. That is how disreputable this place is. It is not for the faint of heart.
Understand, this place has everything...metaphorically speaking. It has alcoholic beverages, disco lights, music played louder than city ordinances allow, and a Wuntch Counter.
Do you mean a 'lunch counter'?
No, a Wuntch Counter is a table where Jungian symbols of hope and goodness in various states of decay have been laid out as a macabre reminder that evil walks among us...in spanx.
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Hahaha! Wow, that guy was intense, huh? But, for real, if you're looking to par-tay, I know the illest place to go. Brooklyn's hottest club is...Midnight Inferno! This place is the brainchild of the coolest club promoter in the city. I mean, you probably haven't heard of him. He's that old school rapper turned lone cop on a mission? John McChain? Well, he's back and this time...it's personal.
Yo, this place has everything! Fly girls, old school beats, three Jewish guys that are way better at rapping than you would expect, and Groot by the foot.
What's 'Groot by the foot'?
It's this cocktail that's like 30% pure sugar and they serve it to you in a foot-tall wooden cup. Mmm...it gives you the squirts, but it's totally worth it.
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Boy, who was that ruggedly handsome loser? Hey, I don't suppose you're looking for a place to sell drugs, are you? Because Brooklyn's hottest club is "The Devil's Bosom". It used to be this Eastern European deli that sold the best cured bat wings. They used salt farmed from the Black Sea by a sisterhood of mute Bulgarian nuns, so amazing! Anyway, it closed down when the owner's dad got cancer and he had to go back to Latvia to sell his kidney on the black market.
So, it's a club, now! And they have everything! Tuvan throat singers, Filipino Tinikling dancers, wall murals in this alcohol-based paint that evaporate by the end of the night, and double-penetration sausages.
Whoa! That's not really my thing.
What?! Oh man, if you haven't had sausages wrapped in badger intestines penetrate both of your nostrils, you haven't lived!
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Huh, must be a full moon, man: the freaks are out, tonight. I was just at this club, right? It's the hottest club in Brooklyn. It's called "Fantasia". It was set up by these two really nice...I mean, nice and freaky chicks named...uh...Thelma and Louise.
And, man, this place has everything: strippers who are doing research for their master's degrees in women studies, shot glasses engraved with Frederick Douglass quotes, protein shakes so you don't get a hangover, and your best friend's house.
My what?
That's the name of this special, sound-proofed room where you can call your wife and tell her you're at your best friend's house and it's not a lie!
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Hey, you wanna go clubbing? Cool. The hottest club in Brooklyn is called 'Club'. It's a club. It's tight.
What makes it so 'tight'?
Oh, it's got all the club stuff: sticky floors, over-priced drinks, a guy wearing sunglasses indoors at night that presses play on a laptop, a Kardashian.
A Kardashian?
Yeah. The cool one who likes clubbing. You know.
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Yes, yes, yes, yes...wait...who are you? Right, yeah... BROOKLYN'S HOTTEST CLUB IS 'KNITTING RAVE'. IT'S OWNED BY ICELAND'S FIRST TRANSGENDER PRESIDENT, BIG-DICK FINNBOGADOTTIR. Ooooh...this is my jam! I gotta dance real quick! Be right back.
Woo, okay, I'm back. Did you see me working those elbows, out there? Yeah, I can...pump...those girls all night, if you know what I mean. Alright, turkey, you think you can handle this club? Because this place has everything: shattered hopes, dreams you were too afraid to chase, the soul-crushing weight of your portrait collecting dust on the piano, and...excuse me...
[Rides back in on a horse and falls off the saddle]
C'est la chose ou je monte a cheval...huuuuuuurrrrrrrlllllll