^{ICON Chronicle}

^8c

A Grinders Paradise

Corruption? I don’t think the man had even heard of the word. Not in the context some would throw around, anyways. Just because it was on the company brand and the label of the smooth and refreshing tasting Ale, didn’t mean it extended beyond that. BCP I would call all class, and that of the working class man.

Some rise to power through the political underhanded persuasive weekly money smiles to entice respect and reputation. Others through sheer will, determination, and hard work. The grinders. Maybe followed by, or accompanied by, a beer of good taste and a secret recipe, but the main ingredient that makes it all work is a bit of elbow grease.

Paradise is a district that oozes work and BCP showed me that some people just have that knack about them. Some look towards retirement, and others don’t know the meaning of the word. Take away both the words corruption and retirement and you’d get a sense of what BCP is building, a company unrelenting in work ethic that produces one of the finest beers the nation over.

I sat with the man himself and got a taste for both the Corruption Company Ale and also the character behind it all. I probably should’ve had some food to soak up the intoxication, yet it’s hard to not get caught up in the charisma and one hell of a beer. His love for Vegas as a whole was evident, yet he really seemed to enjoy his slice of Paradise. BCP shared with me his story, a working man’s story of a grinders paradise.

- George Brelis, GJDA

After back and fourth correspondence, a time and date were arranged to meet at a local Kat house in Paradise, Las Vegas. The usual haunts weren't enough as George had some heat from government officials after his article on Sir Lancelot. They didn't take too kindly to being shown in not such an appealing light.

Upon entry all personal were usually frisked and asked to leave their 'comforts' at the door. Yet, due to BCP's reputation and current standing in this part of Vegas he was simply let be to enter as he pleased.

The place itself was your usual hotel style setup with a bar and social area down stairs where girls of the night, and day, would mingle with potential clients. It was very casual in this area. The action happened upstairs in the various rooms specifically tailored to one thing, servicing the needs of Las Vegas' pleasure seekers. 

In more specific words, it was a brothel with an area to get loose. Some came for the girls, some for drinking, yet once the drinks were flowing who could resist a bit of action? It was Paradise, in the city of sin, after all.

George was at a round table toward the far left of the social area and long bar. He wore his usual beige over coat. His belly hit the edge of the table as he moved about trying to get comfortable. He had his trusty pen and worn notepad sitting on the table in front of him, a quarter full drink of locally distilled whisky and nothing other than his appetite for a good story. 

The place was its usual lively yet casual self. Women about talking to men, men drinking solo or in small groups. The usual shit for the day and time.

BCP had arranged this meeting with the reporter. Now normally, he was a busy man and there would be no way to find the time but he was intrigued. Not often does someone normally seek him out, so he cleared the schedule to see what this was all about. Now normally he would not be coming into this place during normal working hours, but BCP choose the location well. The owner was a old friend and being a business partner, if things became... complicated, this was a easy place to fix that.

Leaving his men at the door, BCP makes his way towards the bar. Noting the man looking around earnestly, wearing a tan trench coat and hold a pen and pad. He figured this must be George that the errand boy said sent him. Grabbing a whiskey bottle and a Bottle of Corruption Company beer BCP makes his way over to the table and takes a seat.

"George I presume. Names BCP. If you want a drink just let Tim at the bar know, its on the house. Me and the owner are old friends."

Taking his shot, BCP orders another and takes a long drink from his beer before lighting a smoke and looking at George.

"Now, it seems you would like a word with me, what can I do for you?"

George nodded and gave a little smirk as BCP joined him. He may have seemed a little uneasy, yet tried to give off his best effort at a smile to greet the one known as BCP. George was out of his element, once again, meeting with people of this repute, reputation, and he also was on edge due to being followed by the feds over an inquiry.

"Yes, George is my name. Pleased to meet you."

George took his eyes off BCP for a moment and turned them toward the atmosphere, specifically the ass of a young women bent over a mans knee, being lightly spanked. He then waved toward Tim, the barman, and when he had his attention George hand signed the shape of a bottle, which was returned with a nod.

Returning his attention to BCP, George extended the conversation.

"Well, I simply want to get some information about you and your organization here in Paradise. As you know, the papers, tabloids, local and national paint a not so cheery picture about men like you. I'm here to get another side, your side, from the horses mouth directly."

George stopped, and began backpedalling as Tim placed a bottle of Canadian rum and a glass on the table. His nervous energy had him second guessing himself already.

"Ah, not that I'm saying you're a horse.."

George quickly poured himself a shots worth into the glass and downed it.

"I'm just saying.. You know.."

Another glass was poured and shot down by George, followed by another, before he could finish his sentence.

BCP watched George as he noticed the "action" going on around this place. He poured himself another drink then signalled Tim for another bottle of his brew to wash down the whiskey he was pouring.

As he listened to the question, BCP took a healthy drink from his whiskey and looked a little stunned by the question. Upon finishing his drink, he set the glass down and started to speak lowly.

"Men like me huh? Well lets see if we can clarify that a little so I can answer properly."

Tim the barman placed the bottle of rum down with a glass in front of George. BCP placed his hand inside he coat and noticed George jumped a little in his chair. He then pulled out a large bill and placed it in Tim's hand with a small nod.

"By men like myself, I assume you mean well intended people of business success? The papers, ahh yes the papers don't really know much about me. Just because a great Mayor like we have here in Vegas, goes against the federal law and makes booze legal in this great city, I see no reason to think I had some kind of hand in that. Just because I happen to have found a fine success in this "new" industry, I'm really curious what they are implying. Any one could have taken that chance, just seems here in this wonderful city I was the only one to really cash in on it. Well me and a few other like minded business people. I would like to think that makes me a great citizen of this city."

BCP leaned back in his chair and poured himself another whiskey then motioned to George to drink his rum.

"I mean seriously, without people like myself, how can America really prove anything is possible?"

After draining his glass once again, BCP slammed it down on the table. Remembering his lit cigarette, he took a puff.

George had to take a moment after downing so many shots so quickly. He felt the burn in his oesophagus and coughed hard at an attempt to ease it. After a few seconds, he poured another drink. This time he let it linger in the glass as he queried further.

"So the business you run out of Paradise here, what's that all about exactly? And how did that all come about?"

Before BCP interjected, George threw out a few words, attempting to also answer at least something BCP was questioning, even if they were of the rhetoric variety, and more so statements or thoughts expressed.

"And, you know the cash cows, the media in general, always looking to spin something to get a headline."

George paused, remembering for a moment he use to be the same way, then took a sip of the Canadian rum.

BCP nodded as he slammed his empty glass down yet again.

"You see, you get it George. Fucking right cash cows, always spinning shit to what they want without really knowing a man."

After motioning for another beer, BCP lit another smoke and puffed on it in thought. Tim appeared and handed BCP the Beer before walking away silently.

"Aww yes the business I run. You see this bottle here?"

He pointed to the label "Corruption Company Ale."

"Now this is what I do. As I said when I came here to Paradise, a local businessman friend of mine thought he might like to invest his money into something legit. Just so happens the mayor liked the idea of legal booze and I....I mean he....got it passed through and now I run a respectful little brewery catering to all the fine establishments here in Vegas."

George watched Tim remove himself again and go back to the bar, collecting empty bottles from various tables and taking more orders as he did. George's attention then focused on the bottle in BCP's hand. George attempted to lean forward to get a better look, yet his stomach prevented him from bending too far. He got a little glimpse of the label as BCP spoke.

"And I understand Paradise is in somewhat of a boom on the business font. What's it like in this area of Vegas, and how do you find living and working in the city of Vegas as a whole?"

A hand waived at Tim as he finally made his way back behind the bar. George pointed to the Corruption Company Ale bottle, then took another sip of his Canadian rum. He wanted to taste the local brew himself, and also felt the need for a chaser to the rum. He was more a whisky man.

BCP downed his beer and grabbed two more from Tim. He handed him another bill with another nod. Placing one in front of George, BCP took a drink then answered excitedly.

"Ahhh yes. Paradise is well what can I say, Paradise. I mean Vegas as a whole is a amazing city. There is a little bit of fun for everyone as you can tell. I mean The Strip is always fun and you got the fancy hotels and the casinos. Which are great, and the guy in charge of a good chunk Fitz.....he's a good guy. Knows his shit. Now Summerlin is a beauty and they run a good ship... I mean they have some good things going on over there. But Paradise is amazing. It's a little more blue collar as you can tell. I mean we have a couple breweries I oversee and my business partner has done amazing things in these little hotels like this one you're in now."

BCP leaned a little closer and lowered his voice as he talked.

"It really is amazing who you can find if you look hard enough. Know what I mean? Or who just up and disappears.."

BCP winked and finished his beer before ordering another.

George took the beer from BCP, gave a glance at the label then knocked back some good swigs as BCP talked. He ended up downing half of it right off the bat. Not a bad brew, he thought, then echoed his thoughts aloud with a bit more respect for the well known Paradise figure as he had finished his answer.

"Great fuckn brew. What's that a hint of in it?"

George was a little busy smashing down the beer to fully grasp what BCP whispered at the end, yet did get the gist it wasn't to be repeated, and smiled in response as he placed the bottle down on the table. He had yet to use his writing and note keeping instruments so far, as he was quite a ways more focused on his drinking to bother.

"And what about people wanting to earn something more than the economy is currently able to supply. I mean it's all up in the shit. The government is fucked. People like you provide a business to allow others more opportunities than they otherwise would have. What is it about your operation that people find appealing and newer people to these shores would also find appealing?"

George was getting a little more loose now and his cussing was starting to find its way into the conversation, as well as his personal opinions.

Now this was more BCP's style of conversation. After downing the rest of his brew BCP stuttered a little as he answered.

"Well, first there is always a secret involved I cannot disclose as it's an old recipe with a bit of flair. But as you said it is rather tasty if I do say so and thank you for noticing."

BCP went to down his beer to find it empty. He shrugged as he poured a bit of the rum George hadn't touched in a little while.

"Well the economy is shit. I give you that. But there is always ways to make a living. I mean hell scratch a back and expect yours scratched too, know what I am saying? I mean the brewery is always looking for good people. We offer a stability that you cannot find everywhere. I think that is what draws people to us here in Vegas as a whole. There is always a chance to make it rich, you just have to know where to look."

George nodded as he listened and took swigs of the beer in between the nodding and listening. He was attentive, in a zone, like that place you get after a good amount of liquor, which then disappeared in a blackout zone after a good amount more. For now though, he was still with it.

With the beer finished, George noticed the need for more, for both. He hadn't yet paid a cent, so withdrew some notes and placed them in the centre of the table then waived to Tim.

"So your company is a brewery here in Paradise and the district itself is a working man or women's district in a thriving city. Now what about BCP? What can you tell me about you. What makes you tick? What has you leading your own organization, what are your ambitions and desires?"

Tim replaced the empties with full beers then swiped the notes off the table.

BCP thanked Tim then took a drink as he pondered this question. Not many asked him these type of things. He wasn't a hard man to read, and most in Vegas knew how BCP was so he had to consider this one and take a minuet to actually think on it.

He placed his beer down, looked George directly in the eyes then answered.

"I'm the underside of Vegas you don't always hear about. The Casinos, hotels, cat houses, that is what people see and think they know. Myself and the people I have work for me are the heartbeat. We are what keeps those places stocked with the booze you sip on. The dime piece on your arm at the casino. We are the hardworking line of the city you see before you. We are grinders. I am a grinder. Nothing in this world comes easy, you have to work your ass off for it. Day in and Day out. And why do I do this? Why do we all do this? Because we love Vegas. We like Vegas to shine."

He poured himself a little whiskey from his bottle then downed it.

"And remember, there is no bright lights and fancy casinos or hotels without people like me. Remember that."

George raised his beer after BCP finished.

"I'll drink to that!"

He then took a good long drink. He would drink to anything at this point, yet he did feel a good sense of pride having his own business in Vegas, and hearing the working man's response. George stopped to take a breath, and continue his questioning.

"Now.."

George forced his eyes wide open, feeling them a little heavy. He shook his head briskly to get some life in his mind, then continued.

"Now we're gonna dig deeper into this BCP guy."

George smirked then pointed at BCP.

"Which is you, of course. These questions I ask people because they give another angle, another perspective instead of the usual stuff, you know?"

George downed the rest of the beer then slid it on the table. The bottle stopped before going over the edge, and if not, Tim was there to grab it anyway as he made another trip around for empties and other orders, scooping it up.

"So, let's start with this one.. imagine you're old and at that point in life you've done all you can, maybe your on your death bed for example or just an old fuck, too old for new adventures, whatever. Now, imagine reflecting back on your life from this point. On all you've done and accomplished. On things you may have regretted, or may not have. What does BCP's story look like?"

George finished his glass of rum then placed the glass back down. The bottle of Canadian club now had a little under a quarter left in it.

"Now, take into consideration you still have however long to live beyond this point. Maybe touch on what has already happened and what you may want to still happen, from this old mans perspective as if it has actually come to pass."

George rested his head on his hand as he looked at BCP, with his elbow firmly on the table, keeping is head propped up.

BCP listened and chuckled a little. He liked this reporter. He wasn't the usual type that tried to get interviews about this rumour or that rumour. He actually was asking things they would never touch.

Downing his glass he gave some thought before firing his lighter up, for his after-3-drinks-smoke as he had done all night.

"Well I'll paint you a little picture. I'll be sitting on my porch in the middle of the day for an annual get together I throw each month for some very dear friends and family. It'll be on a nice little ranch just outside Vegas. During the day we'll have a nice little BBQ with the kids and grand kids. Show them the horses and what not. Make sure they do well in school and understand the things they need to for their age. As the evening starts to roll in, the family will head out and the friends will show up for the bonfire and beer. As Corruption Company will be on all shelfs in all the major cities, this will be a reunion of sorts like we do all the time. They will come, we will remember back on the things we have done and still will do. And make sure everything is running as we intended it."

BCP sighed a bit before he started again.

"You know George, I have done all right for myself at this point in life. But there's more to do, always. There is always more. But if my life stopped right here I would have no regrets. I've scraped, clawed and fought my way to where I am. Will I keep fighting for more? Who knows. But if I don't have the chance, I am fine with where this little brew I made has got me. I've made a lot of friends in all kinds of cities, friends you would never think would even know who I am. Hell, I even know a nun if you can believe that."

BCP held up his bottle and downed it before setting it on the table with the others.

George smirked as he listened. He got the image of a close knit family, who were still hard at work and coming together to celebrate the good times had and the next generation to come. A smaller circle, yet with roots planted to allow for more to grow and prosper. George could see it, and he enjoyed what he saw, even if just internally and his own interpretation.

He continued listening, head propped up on hand, as if a little kid listening to a tale spun by an elder. That, and he was drunk as a fuckn skunk. After BCP finished answering, and more so with the bottle hitting the table, George jolted up and immediately grabbed at the bottle of rum. A second wind, he thought, as he poured half into his own glass and the rest into BCP's as he fired out another question with gusto.

"You have the chance to make one change across the nation for the betterment of the community as a whole. What's the change and why? If no major changes, what do you really like about the current set up and why?"

BCP noticed the look George had and sensed his words had taken the desired effect. BCP smiled as George poured himself another drink, this time he isn't as quick to answer. Skipping the three drink rule he pondered for a few minuets which felt like forever before answering.

"Well on a national front, legalizing booze nation wide of course. But on a broader scale, that is a tough one. I think overall it would be nice to see all Six major cities have some influence, I'm just not sure the current working class can support all six. Overall though I think we are in a decent place. The economy is picking up though slowly, we are taking some freedoms back one step at a time that the Feds want us not to have. SO really, not a whole lot of change is needed at the moment. I think we have things going in a good direction and hope they keep going that way. I just do my part where I can."

George finished pouring and was able to get a good few sips in as BCP pondered his response. The bottle was pushed toward the others, which were simply left in the middle as Tim was busy with some rowdy customers. Two clients got into a fist fight, or attempted to, over one of the young lasses. She was a tease at the worst of times, and a devilish hook at the best.

Just as BCP had finished speaking, a few others close to the two arguing also got involved, just cause fuck it, why not. This all happened a distance from the back corner table George and BCP were seated. It turned into a little bar brawl between the six of them. The broad in question smiled and moved off to the side.

Other patrons not involved kept their cool. Some had other dames at their tables chatting them up and some were with other men simply here for the drinks and socializing, most notably the Corruption Company Ale. It wasn't an unusual thing to see and given the people who ran the place it also didn't last too long.

George watched as the six men were eventually subdued and removed. Some subdued one another due to the altercation, and others were forced out by some of the tougher and not to be fucked with types that had been popping up more and more in Paradise. Some were hired staff at Misses Mary's Twisted Sisters and others patrons about the joint, here for an afterhours drink or two.

After all had settled down, George turned his attention back to BCP and attempted to pick up the conversation where it left off.

"So where were we, ah yes, here's another.. If you could change places with one person alive today, who would it be and why?"

BCP watched as the brawl broke out without even jumping. This was typical in here and Tim never let things get too out of hand so BCP wasn't concerned. Sensing George probably wasn't use to this type of "fun" BCP didn't place bets on the winner like he normally did with Tim.

"Oh yes, sorry those things are common in these parts. So where were we?"

BCP heard George slur a bit on his next question and took no time to answer.

"Well hell that is a easy one. The President. I mean I know the Mayor gets paid but think of what that guy rakes in. Plus who wouldn't want to walk around the white house naked? Shit we might actually find out things we never knew about also even if its just for one day."

George laughed then knocked back the rest of his rum. He was almost seeing double by this point. His intentions weren't to get crazy inebriated, more so to get an interview with BCP so the masses could understand this community figure more. Right now though, he wasn't complaining. In the morning, probably.

Sensing it time to finish up, George offered his hand forward to BCP as he stood up in an attempt to shake hands. He leaned on the table with the other for support.

"You sir are already a President in my eyes."

George closed his left eye so he could see better, to deter the double vision which was beginning. He was still mostly conscious and would remember most of the conversation. Not yet blacked out, some may call it browning out which was remembering parts, if not most of the night. Slurring, he continued.

"I thank you for your time Mr CP. Mr. B to the C to the P. What does that mean anyways? Is it like a secret code name, since you're the president of the united states? Oh shit, you're the president! I'm sorry sir, can I get your jacket?"

George was now a little too drunk and was rambling. He was a big man and should be able to hold his liquor, and usually did, yet on account of his stress he'd gone a little too hard, and now had to manage his way home somehow after saying his thanks to BCP.

BCP stood and went to shake George's hand and instantly tried to stable the man. It wasn't like BCP was sober but he still had some things to do and was use to this type of drinking. Almost on queue, Tim appeared and steadied George without saying a word.

"Mr. George, I was glad we had a chance to talk today. Now normally I'd tell ya to slip out the back, but I noticed that dame that started the brawl was eyeballing you. And looks like walking would be hard for you at this point let alone driving. So I had Tim here get you a room ready upstairs. And would you believe this, that girl comes with the room."

With a nod towards the girl from the brawl she ran over and grabbed George's arm and started taking him upstairs.

"It was a good interview, hope to see you again sir, and enjoy Paradise!"

BCP turned to Tim and handed him a hefty wad of cash.

"Make sure he sleeps it off after he's done with her, and make sure no one steals his shit. Not how we do shit around here. Remind him to leave out the back door when he's awake and sober with coffee in him."

BCP made his way out. As the door opened he walked out onto the street. He jumped into an awaiting car and headed out to make sure the Brewery was running smoothly.