Crazy thing about Crazy Horse Too is that it was once a G-string gold mine

Somebody get me rewrite.

Come on, people. This will never do.

What’s this, the infamous Crazy Horse Too topless cabaret goes out with a whimper instead of a bang?

The Industrial Road jiggle joint simply fades to black a la David Chase and “The Sopranos” instead of going out in a blaze of glory like Al Pacino in “Scarface”?

How are we going to ever see the sexy, violent, and strange saga of the rise and fall of one of America’s most notorious cabarets hit the big screen without a Hollywood ending?

Shortly after midnight Saturday, city licensing officials boxed up the booze and removed the liquor license. Without the ability to serve liquor, customers are sipping $7.50 colas, and not even lap dances go better with a $7.50 Coke.

The Crazy Horse Too attracted several possible buyers, but with few exceptions they were all graduates of the University of All Hat and No Cattle. The only way they were likely to ever generate enough money for a suitable down payment for the club was with a mask, gun and get-away car.

That’s the crazy thing about the Crazy Horse Too. Despite standing in a neighborhood where the cockroaches travel in packs, with the right operators it was a G-string gold mine. Depending on your source, it’s estimated worth — as long as it was operating wide open — ranged from $28 million to $40 million.

In a racket in which the dancers pay management just to go to work, it’s as close to a foolproof operation as it gets.

With that said, I don’t know how Michael Signorelli, the club’s most high-profile suitor, managed to botch things up so thoroughly in such a short time. Signorelli’s suspicious links to ousted owner Rick Rizzolo, who is currently serving a year and a day at government expense on a tax conviction, made him appear more like a lackey than a viable entrepreneur.

If the complaints emanating from inside the club are an accurate indicator, Signorelli’s business acumen was a little suspect. I don’t know what rocket scientist mail order college he graduated from, but it isn’t everyone who can say he lost his shirt running a topless bar in Las Vegas.

Although other potential buyers continue to scrutinize a possible deal with Rizzolo’s attorneys, it leaves me to wonder how we’re going to script the club’s rise and fall into suitable Hollywood blockbuster material without a lot of luck. A buyer who passes the smell test will have to be found very soon, or the Crazy Horse Too won’t be worth much more than its real estate value. Unless, of course, the owner finds someone who wants to open a vaguely Roman-themed restaurant with a bunch of poles sticking out from the middle of the tables.

Many long-time observers of the club’s legal troubles hoped for a Hollywood happy ending with Rizzolo riding off into the sunset after cutting a large check and paying his small debt to society. Kansas tourist Kirk Henry, who was paralyzed in the parking lot outside the club, is due to receive $9 million of his $10 million judgment once the Crazy Horse Too is sold.

But now that the government’s deadline has passed, the U.S. attorney’s office will be tempted to move in and take a more aggressive role to ensure the club sells.

Trouble is, now that Signorelli has busted out and the liquor license is yanked, the Crazy Horse Too’s value has plummeted. One prospective buyer told me last week that the property, including the accompanying real estate, is worth about $12 million.

Reliable sources close to the club say there are at least two legitimate potential buyers with no direct tie to Rizzolo. The longer they wait, the better deal they’ll get.

The longer it goes without being run professionally, the less the name will be worth to the next topless mogul who tries his luck at the Horse. That’s the irony in this strange scenario: For all their trouble, Rizzolo’s Crazy Horse Too crew ran an extremely successful operation. The millions flowed and the party never ended on Industrial Road.

Now that the party is over for Mr. Rick, writing an ending that makes everyone happy seems most unlikely, indeed.

John L. Smith’s column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.