The untold story from Chandler Bing. Year is 1993 - just under a year before the series began.

Just a quick note - really enjoyed writing this, its my first piece im splitting up into chapters. This part isn't really similar to my regular work but im planning on putting some dirtier and raunchier stuff in in later chapters -Hope you enjoy =)

For the last 6 weeks, money had been in the back of his mind. After his most recent temp-job didn't need him anymore, Chandler had decided to take a while for himself, relax and see New York which he hadn't really had a chance to do since he moved there about a year back.

Recently though, rent was becoming more and more overdue, bills were piling up on the table beside the front door of his apartment and his room-mate had moved out for a few weeks now. Chandlers time for himself was coming to an abrupt end - FAST!

Chandler had been awake for a while when the clock hit 10AM. He finally got out of his bed - wearing only a pair of tighty-whities before walking across the some-what large and empty apartment towards the kitchen area. He went to open the fridge, the empty shelves reminding him there was nothing in it, except for stale bread and a brown jar. Not liking his options, Chandler retrieved and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

The shower was also short-lived, as he probably got about a minute of hot water before it went cold - probably as a lack of paying the gas bill. Realising this, Chandler went to a towel on the radiator - still wet as there was no heat to dry it off. It would have been a bigger problem if he had to walk across the apartment butt naked hoping his room-mate wouldn't see, but since there was no room-mate anymore, Chandler walked from the bathroom to his bedroom naked and freely to find something to dry himself with.

It was a while later - Chandler sat staring at the phone. He put it there half an hour ago after trying to get through to his mother to withdraw from the only-child money fund. All he got was a message machine stating she was off promoting her new book and wouldn't be home for a few weeks.

Chandler knew he would have to call his dad, something he was a bit weary about doing - main reason being his father was a cross-dressing, over eccentric man who ran an all-gay burlesque style bar. But with empty fridge, wallet and cold showers, Chandler was ready for anything.

Another while later, Chandler found himself packing a bag with clothes, passports and a plane ticket to Vegas that had just been faxed through. Chandler was going to his dads work-place to earn some cash. Upside was he figured his dad wasn't going to be there a week or two, the money was good and he's only be serving drinks behind the bar.

Chandler locked up his apartment and headed down the stairs of his building and out to the street to call a cab to take him to the airport. When he came back, he'd have another temp job, money and hot showers again. Things were looking up.

Things definitely weren't looking up. Chandler couldn't have been in a bigger predicament. First, his 5PM flight was delayed until 11PM. Then when he actually got to Vegas he'd found out his bag went on another flight to England. Now he was standing outside his fathers tacky, very flamboyant bar with people staring strangely at him. He finally bit the bullet and walked into the place, humiliated at doing so in front of God-knows how many buff straight men who were shouting and wolf-whistling at him, mocking him for his choice of bar.

The night began, Chandler stood behind the bar, more comfortable than earlier. He stood in an all black uniform which consisted of a shit and trousers with a pink tie. Apart from the tie Chandler liked the fact he wasn't like the performers on stage wearing a lot less.

At about 11:30PM, Chandler was settled in nicely, knowing how to actually make to unknown cock-tails men had been asking for all night. He even gave the odd chuckle at the performances on stage which were getting more and more homo-erotic as the night went on. He had also made good friends with the other bar tender, Lance. He'd only been working there for a few weeks now.

Maybe it was in the air of a gay bar, but Chandler was picking up on how dark and handsome Lance was, and then it maybe had something to do with the odd shot he knocked back every now and then. Lance was around the same height as Chandler, tanned, with longish shoulder length brown hair and beautiful dark brown eyes.

A hard pat on his shoulder caused Chandler to look round, it was Lance. He said Chandler would have to handle the bar on his own for a while and he'd see why in about ten minutes. Chandler was serving for what seemed forever by himself fighting off drunken gay men's advances. Then, the bar was empty and men were at their tables.

Lights began hitting the stage and Chandler couldn't help but look up. The curtain was up and there was Lance. Shirtless. Black thong. Black chaps. Chandler could believe his eyes. It wasn't until the music started blasting that he had an idea what his new friend was doing. The crowd was going wild for Lance, who was dancing around the stage quite well. Chandler watched, amazed and for some reason glad that no one was at the bar to disturb him.

Before long, Chandler found himself groaning when the music stopped and lance stopped dancing. The strip-tease dance was over. Lance jumped of the stage and ran through the crowd of groping hand before jumping over the bar and taking role of bar tender again.

Chandler gave him the "you were awesome" speech in between serving drinks. It wasn't long before another hand pressed his shoulder, Chandler looked around and the part-time manager was calling him.

"Follow me" he said.

Up the back hallway which was strangely bright compared to the dark bar he had been in for the last few hours Chandler found himself approaching a room.

"You have ten minutes" the manager told him.

"For what?" Chandler asked.

"To change. You don't know. Your on stage next!"

Chandler was baffled. That wasn't part of his deal, he was serving drinks.

"Your dad said you might react this way. But seriously, did you think you were getting $250 a night just to serve drinks?" the manager asked. "Your dad said your old routine will do."

Before long, Chandler found himself in the dressing room looking at yellow PVC short-shorts, boots and a yellow umbrella. He remembered these performances he used to during college for extra cash - but they were no where near as erotic as Lances. The crowd would boo him off. Oh and yeah, he be dancing in front of gay guys in a skimpy outfit - and what about Lance…Wait a minute, the shots started talking to Chandler. Lance got his chance to make an impression on Chandler, it was now his turn to return the favour.

Chandler stripped off the bar tender uniform, now standing butt naked in an empty dressing room. He began searching through the drawers for anything that would improve his act. All he could find was a yellow g-string. He slipped into it, and put the shorts over it. He slipped the boots on and grabbed the umbrella. Then he headed towards the stage.

It was quiet. Chandler was alone. Any minute now the curtain would go up and music would start. What was he doing. He was mixed feelings toward the whole thing. Just think about Lance, he'd tell himself. No wait, your not gay, don't think about it for Lance, think about the money…The curtain was up, lights were shining on him and the song 'Its raining men' started.

The crowd was going wild for Chandler. And he was noticing. He kept giving quick glances to the bar and was pleased lance was watching. The music was coming to an end soon, so trying to upstage Lance, Chandler grabbed the sides of his yellow PVC shorts and yanked them down, standing in just the g-string and boots. He threw the shorts into the crowd that were getting even louder nd wanting more. Lucky for Chandler, the music stopped, the lights went off, and he ran from the stage across the floor of groping hands to the bar, where like Lance he jumped over and returned to bar duty, bringing a following crowd of customers.

Lance approached him - "Very hot dude" he said. "Id like to see more sometime".

Chandler's face brightened up even more. He didn't know why, but he wanted Lance to see more too - and he wanted to see more of Lance.

For a split second Chandler just realised fully what he'd done. He couldn't believe it. Standing only in a g-string he wanted to cover himself up, that was of course until Lance placed a hand on his exposed ass cheek, and stared long into his eyes. Chandler just hoped the growing in his g-string pouch would stop soon before the other men saw it. He wanted Lance, and he was going to get Lance, sooner or later.

Part one over.