Dimitri is out of his head: he's standing in front of the entrance in his Armani suit, high on coke and he keeps giving out tickets and letting people in, although there are already three thousand more people in the place than there should be.... The official number is four thousand and there must be at least seven thousand... With all the drugs going round, the overcrowding, the packed corridors and the safety exits blocked, this place is fucked if the police decide to inspect it... But that barrel of lard, Dimitri, doesn't seem to realise or perhaps he can't be bothered, and so why should I bother.
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LAST CUBA LIBRE
General FictionIf you're looking for a gripping read, look no further than "Last Cuba Libre". Meet Jessica, who's a bit of a slag. Claudio, who rocks designer threads and snorts lots of cocaine. Then there's Tony, cruising in his Porsche, leaving a trail of broken...
