Age has been catching up to Dr. Venture. Well, he wasn't old. He was 43. That's not old. But after being called a grandpa by one of the people Brock killed in an earlier excursion, he can't help but feel like he is.

So, on a midlife crisis fueled whim, he bought a tricked out sports car, a new outfit that looked straight out of the 70's, and invited Brock out to stripper bar. Well, Brock technically drove him there because he thought of it but it still counts! Rusty was back and ready to get some tail!

"Oh, pretty dead in here huh? Not a whole lot of talent" Rusty remarks. Taking a seat at the bar with Brock. The dim lighting casts shadows across his face as the faint smell of beer and cigarette smoke hangs in the air. "Doesn't usually get jumping til' 11. And you know. On a Friday" Brock replies, as stone faced as usual. The deep rumble of his voice contrasts with the faint music playing from the stage area.

"So! Teach me Brock. I'm a quick study. How do ya pick up the women?" Rusty asks, sipping on the drink that the bartender had to pull from an instructional book because it was so old. The glass feels cool against his sweating palm. "Just gotta throw the vibe out there" Brock adds, watching in concern while Rusty gets up from his stool, sticking out his ass and patting it, trying to appear attractive. But he just looked pathetic.

"Well, the welcome mat's out! Let's see who comes a knockin"

"Ooo Brock, check out the main stage. But don't make it obvious.. Rusty Like" He purrs to himself, eyeing the lady at the center of the stage. The spotlight glints off her costume as she moves to the music.

"She's looking at me. What do I do?"

"Give her like, five bucks" Brock remarks, watching Rusty fumble with his wallet. He takes out a twenty, being the only bills he had "Do you think she can break this?"