Suddenly two women bounded down the center aisle and onto the Jefferson's main stage. The porn flick's sound was cut, a disco ball was lit, and a large, leather-clad drag queen started working the front row. After an emcee-acting dude encouraged us to "feel up our neighbor," the bigger of the two ladies--I think her name was Mistress Mona--started laying things out: a riding crop, a fake fire pit, and a chain of what looked like really small ben wa balls, which she threatened to shove up her privates. When she pulled out a large sheet of silver Mylar, two old guys behind me, who provided running commentary à la The Muppet Show, wondered if the whole thing was going to turn into a Gallagher show.