The Sequined Tit wasn't trying to hide its existence in the D.C. area. The sign emblazoned with its name was decorated in gold glitter and outlined by flashing lights. Behind the words was the drawing of a voluptuous, naked woman and each of the i's on the sign were dotted with the nipples of her breasts. The woman was smiling and winking at people as they passed.

"Well, that's not scary," Tim mumbled as he looked up at the painted woman towering over him.

"Timmy, walking in heels isn't going to be any easier if you don't get that stick out your ass."

Abby grabbed his arm and pulled him forward to the door of the club. Tim was uncomfortably aware that a few loitering queens were watching him as he walked by. One of them—a brunette who almost a dead ringer for Sophia Loren—removed a smoldering cigarette from her mouth and shot Tim a wide grin.

"Would you look at the ass on that one?" "Sophia" proclaimed loudly. "Nice little booty handful."

"Don't be bashful, sweetie!" called one of Sophia's friends. Tim ducked his head, unsure how to respond to the cat-calling.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Are you hags picking on the fresh meat?"

Tim looked up and found himself face to face with the largest pair of breasts he could ever remember seeing. Their owner was a large drag queen who towered over even Tim. Her eyes were decorated with purpled glitter and dark black liner and her cheeks had more than just a dab of red blush to them. Her ruby-painted lips were smiling at she looked him over.

"What's your name, darling?"

For several moments, Tim's mouth open and closed soundlessly as he tried to gain control of his tongue. "Uh…uh…Tim?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Uh…telling…I'm telling you…"

The hunkering queen shot a dirty look to the queens who had been ogling Tim. "Dammit, Rosa May! You scared her so much, she can't even talk!" she snapped, taking Tim's hand gently. "Don't worry, baby, they ain't gonna hurt you. Big Momma will see to that."

"Big Momma?"

The queen threw her head back in a raucous laugh. "That's my name, dearie! I run the drag queen circuit around these parts, so you just stick with me and I'll make sure they don't eat you alive." She leaned down close to his ear and whispered, "Because a nice slice of prime rib such as yourself would get gobbled up in a second."

Tim wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Abby cleared her throat and looked at Tim expectantly. "Oh! Uh, this is Abby," he introduced as he grabbed Abby's hand and pulled her over. "She's not a drag queen, though. She's a real girl."

"Hey!" Sophia bellowed with a good-natured grin. "We're all 'real girls,' right ladies?"

"Ain't no 'ladies' around here," Big Momma retorted. "Except for Miss Tim and her Goth friend." She linked her arms through Tim and Abby, and led them in. "Toodles, girls!"

The club itself was a lot like other clubs Tim had gone to. The difference, of course, was that all of the patrons were dressed as women, but very few of them actually were women. A particularly headache-inducing song blared through the speakers, shaking the floors and walls of the building. A throng of female impersonators filled the dance floor, gyrating against each other to the beat of the music. Tucked away on the other side of the club was a neon-lit bar, behind which was a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, tending bar. As they approached the bar, Marilyn's eyes lit up and she blew a kiss to the trio.

"Abigail!" Marilyn chirped in a breathy voice. "My darling! Who is your delicious little friend?"

"This is Tim," Abby said after kissing Marilyn on the cheek.

"Newbie?"

"Is it that obvious?" Tim asked.

"No self-respecting queen would go by 'Tim.'" Marilyn told him. "You need a name with femininity and pizzazz!" she said with a large flourish of her hands.

"We'll work on that, baby," Big Momma cooed.

"Trust her," Marilyn agreed. "Big Momma takes care of her own."

Desperate to change the subject—as well as to get started on the case—Tim asked, "Is it true that someone here was killed last night?"

The two queens exchanged sorrowful glances. "Poor Clara," Marilyn said. "She was such a sweetie."

"It didn't happen here, doll, but it was only a few blocks down," Big Momma told him. "He had been here until about ten."

"Do you have any idea what may have happened?"

Big Momma shrugged. "It's not the nicest area, so the possibilities are endless."

"You don't think it had anything to do with this club, do you?"

"If it does, babycakes, it has nothing to do with our regular gals. We promote love and harmony among our patrons." The large queen took Tim's arm gently and ungracefully twirled him around. "Now enough talk of depressing things, my darling. We need to clean off your rough edges and reveal the diamond which lies beneath."

Marilyn stepped around from the other side of the bar and gave Tim a critical eye. "That top is doing nothing to show off his gorgeous upper body. I think a halter top would look divine with those shoulders," she said, pushing the straps of his top toward his neck to give the illusion of a halter top. "That will also enhance your cleavage."

"Keep the skirt, though!" Big Momma insisted. "You've got lovely legs and you need to show them off."

"What about the hair?" Marilyn asked as he brushed his hands along Tim's wig. "Would a longer 'do work better?"

Big Momma slapped Marilyn's hand away. "With those cheeks? I think the beehive is just perfect to frame his face. I would go with a different color, though. Something a bit darker will bring out the green in your eyes."

"Something of the dark caramel variety," Marilyn agreed.

"But first, sweetie, we need to figure out a good name for you, because 'Tim' just does not cut it. So tell Big Momma a bit about yourself."

In the course of Marilyn's and Big Momma's assessment of his look, Tim had slowly backed away from the two queens until his back had bumped against the bar. Abby stood to the side, watching in amusement.

"Well…" Tim began uncertainly, "…uh…I work with computers. And I write…well, I try to."

"And what is your drag persona? What kind of girl are you?"

"…Um…"

"He's definitely got that 'good girl' persona," Marilyn commented, "but with a secret freaky side."

"What about Shy?" Big Momma suggested.

"Shy?" Tim echoed. "Is that even really a name?"

"Baby doll, haven't you ever seen The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas?"

He hadn't, but Tim didn't feel like arguing. "I can live with Shy."

Big Momma dabbed her eyes with a bar napkin, feigning crying. "Oh, my little baby's blossoming into a full fledged queen! It seems like only five minutes ago I took him in under my wing!"

"Soon she'll be belting out a Liza Minelli showtune!"

"I'm so proud!" Big Momma squealed. "I'm going to show you off to the girls. By the end of the night, you'll know everything you need to know about being a true queen."

She grabbed Tim's hand and pulled him away from the bar toward the dance floor. He looked back to Abby, fear evident on his face. He had a feeling this was going to be a long night.