Myron frowned. Kyle opened the same door again. The two men gripped Myron harder and started dragging him back into the room. When Myron resisted, Kyle showed him the stun gun. “You want another two million volts?”

Myron did not. He moved back to the maroon room. “What was that all about?”

“That part was for show,” Kyle said. “Please move to the far corner.” When Myron didn’t obey immediately, he flashed the stun gun. Myron inched backward, not turning his back on Kyle. There was a small table by the door. Kyle and the two bouncers moved toward it. They reached into what looked like a box of tissues and pulled out surgical gloves. Myron watched them slip the gloves onto their hands.

“Let me just state for the record,” Myron said, “that I’m getting a little turned on by the rubber gloves. Will this involve my bending over?”

“Defense mechanism,” Kyle said, snapping the gloves on with a little too much zeal.

“What?”

“You use humor as a defense mechanism. The more frightened you are, the more your mouth flaps.”

Bouncer-cum-therapist, Myron thought, perhaps proving the man’s point.

“So let me explain the situation so even you’ll understand,” Kyle said in a singsong tone. “We call this the beating room. Hence the maroon color. The blood blends in, as you will soon see.”

Kyle stopped and smiled. Myron kept still.

“We just videotaped you leaving this room under your own volition. As you may have guessed, the camera is now off. So that’s the official record—you leaving of your own accord, relatively unharmed. We also have witnesses who will state that you assaulted them, that our response was proportional to the threat you posed, that you initiated the ruckus. We have longtime club patrons and employees who will pretty much sign any statement we put in front of them. No one will back up any claim you have. Any questions?”

“Just one,” Myron said. “Did you really use the word ‘ruckus’?”

Kyle stayed with the grin. “Defense mechanism,” he said again.

The three men spread out, fists tightened, muscles at the ready. Myron moved a little farther into the corner.

“So what’s your plan here, Kyle?” Myron asked.

“It’s pretty simple, Myron. We are going to hurt you. How badly depends on how much you resist. At best, you’re going to end up hospitalized. You will be pissing blood for a while. We may break a bone or two. But you will live and probably recover. If you resist, I will use the stun gun to paralyze you. It will be very painful. And then your beating will be longer and more savage. Am I making myself clear?”

They started to inch closer. Their hands flexed. One cracked his neck. Kleavage Kyle actually took off his jacket. “I don’t want to get it dirty,” he explained. “What with the blood stains and all.”

Myron pointed lower. “What about your pants?”

Kyle was topless now. He did that flex thing where you make your pecs dance. “Don’t worry about them.”