Free The Deceivers by Harold Robbins

friend, Phitsanu, was coming over so they could go out together to wash away his old life and bless the new, richer one he had embarked upon.
    *   *   *
    ENTERING THE TWO-ROOM hut that served as his home and workshop, Taksin hid in a secret hole in the floor less than half the money he received from the dealer. He kept out the rest for the night’s activities—it was going to be an expensive evening and he would have to pay for both Phitsanu and himself.
    After Phitsanu arrived, they drank a bottle of rice wine and then stood by the river in the dark and masturbated. They were going to be with prostitutes later, and prepped themselves so they would not ejaculate quickly when they were paying for sex. “More bang for the buck,” Taksin said, quoting a line from an American movie he’d seen.
    Afterward, they made their way through the playful, noisy, and ruckus crowds of the Songkran Festival.
    The rituals of the festival were observed by people bathing monks and religious objects and then each other. It went from a serious rite to fun as people sprayed water on whoever they could. Water came flying from people on the street, passing cars and trucks, and from balconies overhead. Buckets and bowls of water, water balloons and water guns, and even an occasional garden hose was put into action.
    All of it was done with good humor—getting splashed was the objective, not something to avoid. The water renewed the spirit by washing away bad luck.
    Homes were cleaned thoroughly at festival time because it was believed that throwing away things that were old and useless kept them from bringing bad luck to the owner.
    Taksin and Phitsanu stopped at a street vendor’s cart for a meal of spicy squid on a stick and green curry chicken served on a banana leaf. They squatted behind a counter to eat in order to keep from being targets for water throwers.
    After eating, they went to a bar for the first step of Taksin’s celebration of his new life of affluence and satisfying his dreams and desires: a cobra-blood cocktail.
    The drinks were expensive. For the king cobra concoction Taksin would pay the equivalent of two hundred dollars each for him and his friend.
    Live snakes in glass cases lined a shelf behind the bar. Taksin and his friend didn’t just walk in and order the famed cocktails—there was a ritual to be observed. They sipped ordinary rice wine and looked over the snakes from their positions at the bar, evaluating their size and color, talking to other men who were also bellied up to the bar, getting the opinion of the bartender, as they debated which snake they would choose. It was not unlike selecting a lobster from a glass tank in a restaurant.
    The snake cocktail was prized among Thai men because it was believed to be an aphrodisiac that gave men powerful loins and made them irresistible lovers.
    The bar served other drinks that were reputed to increase a man’s sexual prowess—above the cages with live snakes to be used for blood cocktails were jars of rice wine flavored with Chinese herbs. Each jar contained a creature from the jungles of the country—coiled vipers, cobras, and green snakes, scorpions as long as a hand, the balls and penis of sheep and oxen.
    The creatures were pickled in the wine for several years before the concoction was considered aged enough to drink. No wine was served before its time …
    The wine didn’t absorb the poison of the snake, making the liquid drinkable—for those who could stomach it. And a surprising number of men were willing to drink anything to increase their sexual potency.
    When it came time to order, Taksin pointed out the snake he wanted. The bartender opened the lid and stuck a pair of metal clamps in the cage, seizing the snake just below its head. He raised its head out of the box with the clamps enough to grab it with his free hand. Bringing it to the bar, he slammed its head against the counter