Incarcerated topless bar mogul faces deadline to sell Crazy Horse Too

Perhaps you remember the mechanic with the grease-stained hands from the old Fram oil filter commercial.

Wiping his mitts on a rag, the mechanic looks up from the wreckage of a car engine and tells you that if you'd only remembered to change your filter you might have avoided this costly repair.

"You can pay me now, or pay me later," he says into the camera.

Do you remember that one?

My guess is that incarcerated topless bar mogul Rick Rizzolo didn't. And now he's on his way to paying a price that's much heavier than the year-and-a-day sentence he received to settle the federal criminal case against him. It's potentially heavier still than the $17 million in fines, forfeitures and civil settlements he agreed to pay to resolve his complex legal entanglement. Even Rizzolo's longtime neighbor and nemesis James "Buffalo Jim" Barrier has managed to place a $1 million lien on his property. Throw in all the secured creditors, and Rizzolo needs to clear approximately $25 million from the sale to settle all his debts.

Nearly forgotten in the sordid "Peyton Place" that has become the Crazy Horse Too investigation and aftermath is the point made by Rizzolo's lead attorney, Tony Sgro, months ago. In so many words Sgro said Rizzolo was motivated to cut a deal with the government in part to save his family a lot of grief.

It's no secret his father, sister, and brother worked at the club. Nor was it confidential that Rizzolo's wife, Lisa, received a whopping settlement in the couple's interestingly timed divorce. His ex-wife received a $7.2 million annuity and $5 million, according to court documents. She also received residences in Las Vegas, Newport Beach, Calif., and Chicago, and a driveway full of luxury automobiles.

As long as Rizzolo made good on his promise to pay his sizable societal debt, only the press would be left to ask questions. He'd cut the big check, do his time, and go about his new life outside the topless racket. (Divorcing himself from the business was also part of his settlement agreement.)

Would he sell for $25 million, $30 million, perhaps even $40 million? The speculation was rampant.

But as the days wore on, the owner didn't appear anxious to find a bona fide buyer for the Crazy Horse Too. The closest he got was drawing the attention of controversial businessman Michael Signorelli, who had about as much chance of landing a $40 million loan as I do.

The ever-pending Signorelli deal effectively placed federal authorities in a holding pattern as they waited a year for the joint to sell. Although the settlement agreement allowed the government and defendant to work out their differences and even to seek a third party to manage and sell the property through a "good-faith effort," by the time Signorelli was no longer in the picture the value of the Crazy Horse Too had plummeted.

A jiggle joint located in a crummy strip mall in the middle of an industrial warehouse area next to a freeway isn't worth much once the liquor license is yanked and the dance stages go dark.

As the sales deal foundered, the government lost its patience. Now U.S. District Judge Philip Pro has lost his patience, too. And that potentially means a major headache for the defendant and his family.

Pay me now, or pay me later. Well, later has arrived. Judge Pro has opened the door to the government pursuing seizure of not only Rizzolo's wealth and property, but his ex-wife's as well. The U.S. attorney's motion to begin seizing Rizzolo's assets was granted by Pro, and Rizzolo has until Sept. 30 to beat his latest deadline or face the consequences. A failure to sell the property at a sufficient price would open the door to pursuing other family assets, and Rizzolo can't want that to happen.

Court documents reflect several offers for the Crazy Horse Too, including three specific ones ranging from $31 million to $34 million. But is the club really worth anywhere near those numbers without a valid liquor license and experienced operator?

Pay me now, or pay me later.

If Rizzolo doesn't find a way to pay soon, he could end up with a bill much greater than he imagined.

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