2019-09-06 - Amateur Night at the Platinum Cabaret

Since the dancers aren't working tonight, but they are in attendance, many of them are dressed and settled at the bar, at different tables, keeping an eye on things around them. They'll offer lap dances, table dances, and even some assistance to some of those amateurs. (If you want an NPC stripper to join you on stage, go for it!)

Zoiya is seated at the bar when people start to pile in, she's wearing a swathe of body paint, artistically splashed across her form. Once the place fills up, she gets up, picks up a microphone and makes her way to the stage."Welcome to Platinum Cabaret's amateur night!!" She flashes a grin to the crowd, waving a hand over her head. "If you plan on performing tonight, all we ask is that you sign a quick waiver at the bar, it basically says that if you topple your happy ass off of the stage, you won't sue us." She grins wryly and rolls her eyes.

"Let our DJ's know if you have a song you want to perform to, they'll queue it up for you, get on up on the stage and have fun. You can take off as much as you're comfortable with, we encourage you to be wild and crazy, but don't feel pressured to show all your goodies boys and girls!"

She casts a look around the bar, eyebrows raised. "Do we have any volunteers to go first, or should we get you all more lubricated on half priced shots?!" She points to the bar. "First round of shots on me, lets get the drinks flowing!"

"Get up here and sign the damn waiver! We got cash prizes, and you keep your own tips. Men -and- women, or any combination thereof. -Then- get your ass over to the DJ booth and tell 'em what song you want!" Antonio is situated near the bar in a flamboyant, pastel pink sportcoat and navy trousers. The aforementioned waivers are set nearby, and his customary dirty martini is easily within reach. There's a grand smile on the club owner's face as he watches the crowd pour in.

A slender figure drifts in through the door, wrapped up in a dark trenchcoat. Roxy has only been in town a few days, is still staying at a hotel, but here she is after seeing the ad for amateur night at the Cabaret. Her skin is pale, her blunt-banged hair is black, and her eyes are blue. She looks like an outsider, and she is one. Hearing the announcement, she moves to the bar, and quietly asks for a waiver to sign. Her voice is soft and a little hard to hear over the music, but seems to carry an accent of some sort. Scandinavian?

Dylan slips into the club, but not through the front doors. It's from the backstage area, his messenger bag slung around one shoulder. Tonight he's dressed in dark green cargo pants and a grey t-shirt. The t-shirt, mercifully, has escaped any Great Paint Incidents, but those cargo pants? They have a scattering of silver, glittery paint in a small patch on one side. He veers towards the bar once he hears the first round is on Zoiya, a warm smile flashed her way along with a playful wink. He is, however, quite careful to make certain to prop up at the end of the bar, far away from the waviers and the others who gather about to to join in.

A tall, silver-eyed woman behind the bar is pouring something deep pink and ice-cold into a trio of martini glasses, each holding a few ounces. Love looks up when Zoiya does an intro to Amateur Night, saluting her with one of the glasses when she mentions half price shots. Love sips one of the martinis, passes another across the bar to a waitress, and saves one back for Mae. She lines up the shot glasses on the bar, waiting for the first orders to come in. She never has to wait long.

There are several bartenders manning the bar tonight, since it's expected to be busy. Love is the one in the matte black corset with long gunmetal grey hair pulled up in an artfully messy knot, her fair skin covered in black and grey tattoos. Kinda hard to miss.

Antonio's eyes dance over Roxy as he slides her a form and a ballpoint pen, his smirk remaining. "Make sure you read everything, huh? And be careful up there on the stage, sweetie." He leans in to say something else to the Scandinavian woman, taking a sip of his drink.

Lyric has been here for awhile but she was in back more recently getting changed into her uniform. When she comes out she's wearing block booty shorts and a tight black baby doll tee with the words Platinum Cabaret splashed across the front in silver writing and a pair of black Converse on her feet. She weaves through people directly to the DJ book where she'd left some music thumpin while she got ready for her shift. Headphones are lifted on, one side folded up and she starts setting up the music for the dancers. And a list for the amateurs to provide what music they wanted to accompany their performance. Everything was redy!

Roxy reaches for the waiver, and she is wearing a black lace glove over it. Antonio gets a small nod from her. "I have my own outfit, thank you." Once her waiver is signed and handed in she moves to the DJ booth with a USB drive in hand. Do they use those here? She thinks they would. She moves to catch Lyric's eye and offers the drive over. "If you could?" she requests in that quiet voice. "It is the only track on it. Intro and song." Yes, definitely an accent from someplace with Fjords, who speaks English with the clear and measured precision of a non-native student of it. "I wish to not go first, if that is possible." Nerves? Very likely.

A roommate has obligations, and some even more so if they are a fiscal burden. One such fiscal burden gets stopped and carded. It happens every time Blake ends up at the club, but he hasn't and doesn't complain. He waits patiently as his id is given the full treatment. "It's a good fake id. Don't worry about it," he mutters so dryly that it costs him an extra measure of vigilance from the guy checking ids. His bored look does not change when he enters the club. He autopilots to the bar to order a drink.

The door opens and a man in his late thirties can be seen at the threshhold exhaling smoke and flicking a cigarette out into the street before stepping inside. He is dressed like a man who is going out. Dark red button-down shirt, dark jeans, and black shoes. Once indoors, he takes a quick glance around the club to notice he hasn't missed any of the amateurs. A grin cocks his mouth to the side and he turns to make his way over to the bar so he can order a beer. On the way, he tugs his phone from his pocket and taps on the screen for a moment, then returns it. "Stella, please," he mutters to the bartender.

"Half-priced shots," Sparrow echoes to Nicole with a good bit of unnecessary brow-waggling. "We just going straight for the tequila again, pretty?" The pair are seated with Alfie at a table big enough to seat at least six, like they're expecting a second half of their full party to arrive sometime later. The very, very redhead--that color is nowhere near natural--might be getting pointed looks from the blonde beside her; maybe she's hoping the promise of shots will help. "First two rounds are on me?" One starry covered arm--her jacket all black with silvery stars--shoots up to call over a server so that she can order that tequila. Six shots. Half price means get twice the volume, right? Her attention turns, then, to Alfie, she croons, "You up for putting on a show, gorgeous?" all low-lashed and happy.

Pulling out a label, Lyric has a cube of boxes on the side. "Name? Doesn't have to be your real name doll, just what you're going by tonight." Ready to marker it in. When she does, she'll slide the label and drive in the box together. "Not first. I'll tell the boss. You'll do great out there."

Mae steps down from the stage, moving over to the bar to take a seat, taking the drink that Love had made for her. "Thanks, babe." She says, her hazel eyes scanning the bar and club as it gets crowded. She picks up her drink and moves to closer to Antonio, taking a seat. "Your idea is really going to bear some interesting fruit. Hopefully nobody falls of the stage." She gets comfortable, because tonight, she doesn't have to work. She gets to watch, and drink, and cheer people on. That's always the best kind of fun.

A freshly pulled draft is thumped down in front of Dominic not long after his order. Love's still finishing off her bracing first martini of the light, pink liquid disappears over matte black lips and she stows the martini glass. "You wanna run a tab?" Maybe she thinks he looks the type. Hopefully that's what he asked for, because it's hard to hear in here. Lip reading: engage.

A gray-plaid button-up shirt, professionally distressed jeans, and genuinely beat-up sneaks - Alfie is rocking a post-grunge look, today. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, putting at least a few of his many tattoos on display, aside from just the bird in flight on the side of his neck. His hair is swept back, on top - on the sides and back it's too short to be swept in any particular direction. And he's being fairly quiet at first, observant as he watches people arrive from his shared table with Sparrow and Nicole, keeping an eye out for familiar local faces in his state of curiosity.

He scrunches his nose at the possibility of tequila, right up until it's noted that the first two rounds will be on Sparrow, if he's even included in that metric. He shakes his head at the question that's sent his direction. "Not risking getting cut off until I have a job," he answers. His voice is soft, he has to raise it to be heard over the din of crowded places.

"That's why you drink a lot -after- your set, right? Beforehand, just enough to ease the nerves." Antonio winks to Zoiya, taking the microphone in hand and gulping his martini. "Remember, folks -- if you wanna see that ass, splash that cash." Antonio's voice resonates over the booty hip-hop that pumps from the club's speakers. "We got our first contestant. Who else is gonna join up? Don't be shy, now."

It's a shot of whiskey that Dylan grabs for his first, that free shot that is downed with one quick gulp. It does wonders, it seems, the fellow leaning in against the bar as he relaxes, and he's more than content to people watch tonight, especially those who come up to sign the waivers. "Another," He nods to whichever bartender is on his end, motioning to the now empty shot.

Staring at Sparrow. That is what Nicole is doing as she sits in the large booth with her and Alfie. She doesn't look at all comfortable, is in fact hunched over a little and sitting on her hands. "Yes. Tequila. I am going to need it, and a Corona or something, unless they make a good margarita." Dark eyes survey the scene, though they do so with her head bent low a touch, as if she doesn't want to be caught looking around. The blonde is dressed simply tonight with brown leather sandals, slightly faded, body hugging jeans with some frayed holes here and there, and a silk camisole style, loose fitting tank. A few necklaces drape around her neck and a small ring pierces her nose (so delicate it is easily missed), but otherwise, she is adornment free. Eyeing the waivers and those who go to get them, she simply shakes her head.

Lyric calls out to Zoiya. "You should break the ice for them, show them what's up? Maybe we'll get more signed up that way." Of course it gives everyone time to drink and loosen up too. The music is already playing though, just party tunes for now, something for everyone to dance to. "Hey boss, our first sign up doesn't want to go first, so put her a little further down the line if you could?"

There's the faintest of smirks from Love as she pours several tequila shots to send them off to the table that just ordered 6. She leans on the bar after sending them off with a waitress. Love's parked and pouring tequila shots somewhere between Zoiya, Antonio, and Dom. "Enjoy."

"I drink a lot after my sets because by the time I start drinking, my feet hurt." Zoiya quips to Antonio, sipping from her drink as he encourages people to sign up and get wiggly on the stage. She props her chin on her palm, gazing around the club with interested eyes. "I hope we see a lot of fun up there tonight." She perks up when Lyric calls out to her, a slight grimace showing for a moment before she glances at Antonio. He's the boss, it's his call.

Roxy smiles and nods to Lyric. "Echo, I would like to be called Echo," she requests. Then she moves to the bar to settle in her trench coat and watch the room and the other amateurs, to get a sense of the audience.

Joey Kelly, the boer escaped from his gym resurfaced two nights in a row? Where the hell did all this free time come from who knows. Where there's smoke there's fire or something, meaning somewhere the nice twin ain't far behind. Somewhere Jaime will be catching up. First? "Lyyyyyric, evenin girly." And then Love. "7&7?" He slides the bill across the counter and waits getting the layout of the place with a bemused grin.

"Yeah, sure. Tough to go first, isn't it? But once everyone gets nice and drunk, we'll have plenty of people up on that stage." Antonio makes the prediction with a laugh, shooting Zoiya a smirk before casting his gaze back over toward Lyric. "Or maybe the DJ should warm us up since it's amateur night, huh?" He salutes her with a raised martini glass, drinking again and looking back toward the bartender in the corset. "Real nice pour on this one."

Checking the Label, Echo is written there and the drive is with it, all safe and sound. The girl gets a thumbs up gesture. "We won't put you first," she reassures. Lifting her eyes to Antonio, Lyric gives him a finger waggle. "Not even on your birthday," she teases, but she does look contemplative. Her? Strip? Nahhh. Especially when she notices Joey Kelly come in. "Hey Joey, are you planning on giving us a dance?" Lifting both arms she does her own wiggle, "Put on a show!"

Sparrow tilts in close to Alfie until her nose is pressed against his cheek. She murmurs something that doesn't carry through the crowd before pressing a kiss right there, sweet and flirtatious. She lingers close for a moment, smiling at the inked man at her side before returning her attention to Nicole. "You're allowed to look, ya know. We're all gorgeous here. Especially you." As the shots are laid down--six in total--she assures, "You'll have fun. Promise." Catching Joey's arrival, she lifts her hand again, waving in his direction, hoping that red red hair serves as a bright beacon. Should it work, she points at the table, plenty of open spots. Course, who can blame him if he's distracted by wiggling. She certainly is. Plucking up a shot of tequila, she takes on the solemn responsibility of issuing the toast. "To skin and swagger. May we see lots of both tonight."

And catch up, Jaime does. He comes strolling on in and heads immediately over toward his twin, slinging an arm around Joey's shoulders and saying, "You buying one for me, too?" Both brows raise. He flashes a grin to the bartender in greeting and waits to see if the twin is going to get him a drink or if he's going to be left to his own devices, and wallet.

There's a nod from the grey-eyed woman, "You got it, babe," she says, acknowledging Joey's order. She reaches down for a highball glass, pours whiskey over ice and drops a long metal spoon in to give it a gentle stir once she hits it with the clear, sweet soda. It's a pretty easy pour-and-stir, this drink. She tops it up with ice, jams in a straw, and slides it over to Joey. She does a double-take when she glances down and notices Jaime. "Okay, you two. If one of you runs a tab, you're going to have to split it." Twins on a night this crazy will be the death of her.

When Antonio compliments his drink she made sometime earlier, Love smiles. "That's how you know I like you, Antonio. You want another one, you let me know."

Alfie, at least, knew what he was getting into. And his curiosity is on display more than anything else. "Do you think they have a blender?" he asks, noting his preference as far as margaritas go when Nicole addresses the subject. Not that he's about to turn down free tequila. He takes up one of the open shots on the table.

As Sparrow presses her nose to his cheek, he tilts his head a little, into the gesture of affection - cheek pressed into the kiss that she lays down. A hint of a smile curls the corners of his lips, a mere echo of the smile she offers him - not nearly as expressive, under most circumstances; a little means a lot. And he nods, gestured agreement to muttered things that get lost in the din just outside their proximity. He takes his shot, after Sparrow's toast. His nose scrunches as his brow furrows, pinching up his face until he's past the burn.

Mae takes another sip of her drink, pointing toward Lyric. "You better get yourself up on that stage, I don't think anyone else is gonna manage it until you do!" She is clearly teasing, slanting a look at Antonio with her eyebrows raised. "If you really want me to go up there and get things started, I will, but .." She trails off there, chuckling softly. She really didn't want to have to dance tonight.

Where there is one there is the other. Lyric gives a wave to Jaime when he closes in on Joey, glad to see the both of them there together. A hand lifts to the side of her headphones she wears down to hear the music and as soon as it ends, fading out, the next one begins. "The closest I've come to exotic dancing is watching you. Or maybe in front of the bathroom mirror practicing what I've seen you do." She does a hip sway though, like she'd seen the dancer do, hooking her thumbs into the waist band of her booty shorts and gyrating slowly around until she faces her again. Laughing, she blows Mae a kiss.

Opening her mouth as if to protest but then shrugging off whatever thought she was about to say, Nicole takes a breath and brings one hand up from beneath her thighs to reach for one of those tequila shots. "Sure sure. To skin and swagger," she says, lifting the shot in the toast then tossing it back with the grimace that so often comes with tequila. Setting the glass down, she asks Sparrow, "So, are you doing this thing?" She looks around a little more now, lifting a hand to bend a couple fingers in a wave towards Dylan with a smile, and then to Joey and Jaime as well. Smiles all around. Alfie gets her attention then and she looks towards the bar then back to him. "Yeah. I think I'll go with the Corona. Good call."

Joey slides the first drink he ordered to Jaime, "Yeah. I bought it for me." Twin humor. Shooting Lyric a half grin he winks to her slinging his arm around Jaime's back. "Fuck yeah. You only live three times right?" Looking to Love he flicks up two fingers. Second one, porfavor. Looking over to Sparrow's table where Alfie and Nicole are he grins and waggles his eyebrows to Jaime. "Table. Sparrow's crew is here, ad she got Nicole to come." Now he's doubly amused and half because it's his fault.

"Nah, give it a while. Just need someone to convince their friend that it's a good idea to take their shirt off for money, which shouldn't be too hard after three or four drinks." Antonio winks to Mae, finishing off his first martini and sliding the glass forward for another.

Itzhak rolls in not long after the Kelly twins, a guy cut from the same cloth if somewhat stretched out on the Z axis. Oh man, it's so crowded already. Nobody told him amateur nights are like this. (Maybe he should have figured it out.) He looks around, kinda overwhelmed right off the bat. ...Booze is what's required if he's going to stick this out.

It's people watching that Dylan is up to, and so it isn't difficult to catch Nicole's figner waggle cast his way. With his new shot slid across the bar to him, the man lifts it up in a silent salute towards her to return the friendly hello. Whereas the first was downed, the second is savored, not yet even sipped from as he holds it. The others at her table are watched, a look of recognition for Sparrow, but then it's on towards those who hare discuss things over with the DJ.

Jaime flashes a grin at Lyric and a nod, taking up the drink that Joey slides over to him and takes a sip from the glass, grinning at the bartender and saying, "No worries. Put all my drinks on his tab." Then he cranes around when Joey points out that Sparrow and Co. are there. He lifts his drink in salute to those at the table from the bar, "So they are," he agrees, then scans the room, taking in the crowd in general with an idle sort of interest.

With her turn coming up soon, Roxy moves to the backstage area, to speak to the person manning the lights as well, and to get ready.

Sparrow doesn't notice Dylan until she catches Nicole waving his way. Might be because she's grinning crookedly at the Kelly twins in the wake of shot number one. She lifts shot number two toward the artist in cross-the-club greeting, downing it without any toast at all this time. "I'll risk the margarita," she declares, a little rough around the edges, as Nicole expresses a preference for corona. Blender or no blender. The question about her participation sees her leaning in toward the blonde to propose, "How about if I go up there first, you go up after." Closer, she whispers something a little softer, brows arching. Is it working? Is she going for it?

There's a moment of lingering amusement at the twin antics, and Love indeed mixes up another 7&7, whiskey yet to find its home in the bottle rack. She'll swap it out for a bourbon the first time someone orders an Old Fashioned, because she's a Kentucky barrel aged kind of bartender, unless someone specifies a brand outside her preference. Joey is soon presented with a second pale amber drink sweetened with clear soda, this one with a straw of a different color. Twins. She's going to try to keep them apart. Black straw, red straw, go!

The bar prices definitely have a markup on your basic bar experience, but it comes with a show and still isn't as expensive as going to the movie theatre.

Love reaches for Antonio's glass and slides it unto a tub under the bar. She chills a fresh one and shakes up a dirty martini, straining it out of an ice-cold shaker, slightly cloudy, briny, and garnished with three olives on a little bamboo pick tipped along the edge of the glass. "That one's a little different. See how you like it." What did she change? Slightly more briny with a tart note.

Alfie nods sagely at Nicole as he clears his throat and recovers from his shot. His face straightens back out and he sets the empty shot glass back down on the table. "I always assume no blender. That way I'm pleasantly surprised when I find one." Wise words to live by. His voice carries that afterburn croak, straining its way back toward normality. And, "Sparrow will be our canary." As to trying the margarita after all. He looks up as he's noted as part of Sparrow's crew. And he nods a greeting at Joey, if Joey looks in his direction. And he lifts the empty shot glass from the table briefly in answer to Jaime's open-ended salute. Recognizing both from the diner.

It was bound to happen sooner or later. "We'll sign her up!!" A trio of fairly inebriated college students gravitate to the bar, and are quick to have their friend sign the necessary paperwork. "Just play something she can shake her ass to!" The most boisterous 'friend' shrieks the command over to the DJ, and then they're leading her toward the stage -- no need to stop by the dressing room for these lovelies.

The makeshift performer in question is a frizzy-haired brunette with a wire-thin frame, sporting a university teeshirt and short-short denim cutoffs. She hops up on the stage from the rail, making her way to the pole. "Uhhhhhh.... hi?" She looks out to the crowd as the hip-hop music blares, and her friends gather around the stage. "Yeahhhh! Take it -off!-!"

Itzhak leans over the bar to shout to Love, "Old fashioned! Love ya ink!" As the college kid gets up on stage, he makes a hilarious face like a cat who just smelled something dubious. "God she looks like she's twelve," he mutters, mostly to himself.

That glass is dipped in Sparrow's direction as well when she returns Dylan's gesture to Nicole, and then he finally takes a sip of the whiskey he's settled on tonight. When that trio finally convinces someone to get up there on stage, a wry smile curls to the corners of his mouth. Down his free hand goes, brushing against one of the pockets of those cargo pants, but it immediately draws back up again.

"Get up there and tip! Make her feel nice and comfortable, folks." Antonio's voice rips over the speakers as the amateur-hour contestant takes the stage. Eyeing his next martini with anticipation and taking it up to his lips, he shoots an appreciative wink to Love. "Lookin' real nice." He sips tentatively, and confirms his expectation with a nod. "Damn nice."

Put all those drinks on his tab? Joey's eyebrow arches and tells Love, "Name's Jamie Kelly. That's I-M-E not M-I-E." It'll sort but that never gets fucking old. Not to them, but he does tip waitstaff really damn well. He's not Byron, but they work damn hard. He looks to Lyric and gestures to the pair of them- he and his twin, not Lyric's tits. C'mon. "Fuck it, yeah, sign us up." Reclaims his arm and sends a text up to lyric's phone and takes a sip of his drink turning with a snort, "Well shit just got real interesting. He gestures over to Sparrow's table as first act is up giving Itzhak an up nod and pausing at Ruiz. "Cap'n. Did not plan on seeing you here."

Ruiz shoulders his way into the club, flashes his ID briefly at the door without quite looking up at the bouncer. Bit of a squinty-eyed glance at the stage, and he opts to eschew the bar in favour of wandering in closer to check out the current set. Drinks can wait, apparently. Dark, faded tee, dark cargo pants and laced-up combat boots. His hands are shoved into his pockets and his ink garners a bit of sideeye. Probably not a criminal, though who the hell knows in a place like this.

Setting up a song, Lyric leaves her booth, gesturing to Joey and Jaime, "Come sign the waiver!" She signs one herself there, looks like she may have changed her mind. "I'll do it boss. Especially if she gets too shy to finish." So she's signed up. "All you have to do is come tell me what song you want to accompany," she tells the twins. While she's there she gets a drink for some false courage before going back to her booth.

Joey gets a little two-fingered salute to Ruiz's temple for his greeting, along with a quick smile. Then the Mexican's attention is on the stage again.

The college coed up on the stage doesn't have much in the way of dance moves. After prancing about the pole for about a minute, she just straight-up hoists her campus teeshirt over her head, tossing it to her friends. They cheer, wildly and predictably. "Yeahhhhh!" The college chick is wearing a black lace bra, and shimmies about the stage in her tight jeanshorts for another minute or two. "That's all you get for now, fuckers!" The early-twenties woman dismounts the stage somewhat haphazardly, and returns to drinking with her friends -- keeping her shirt off.

"Thanks, babe. Excellent taste." Love's smile is easy in response to Itzy's order and compliment. She laughs and says, "Probably at least fifteen." She glances at the stage to check. Yeah, at least. She fishes around for a sugar cube behind the bar, drops it in a rocks glass, and saturates it with bitters, leaving it for a moment in front of Itz as she sends another tray of quick-pour tequila shots out to a table beyond the bar. Old Fashioneds take a couple minutes to do right. It's a process. She glances at Itzhak's hand on the bar, but doesn't say much, just grins a little wider. "It'll make you feel better if you tip her. She probably needs a new backpack."

"I said if you wanna see that -ass-, splash that -cash-! Get up there and -tip-, gentlemen!" Antonio's voice over the microphone is somewhat more insistent, as he takes a sip from his beverage and winks in succession to Mae and Love.

Mae leans in, bumping Antonio with her shoulder, trying not to laugh. "I can't even when you start saying, splash that cash." She gestures for another drink, counting out money to give to Love for the round she bought at the start of the night. "How are things going back there, need another pair of hands?" She lowers her voice to add. "Please say no, I can't remember how to make a rum and coke, you don't want people getting drinks from me."

"Wait, are you sure you're not Jaime? Because signing us up to strip sounds like a Jaime thing to do, not a Joey thing to do. Did I wake up as the wrong twin this morning?" Jaime asks Joey, brows raising as he gets volunteered, not that he seems to object to taking his clothes off. That doesn't seem to phase him. He's more surprised that it's Joey deciding to do it. But he raises his glass, and takes another swig. The girl on stage is observed idly, but there's no rush to part with his cash just yet.

Itzhak grimaces awfully at Love, and laughs reluctantly. "That don't exactly make me feel any better!" He's eyeing her ink more than the skinny girl on stage. Ruiz walks by and that distracts Itz, turning his head to watch him pass.

Love leans across the bar on her way back past Jaime/Joey, whoever's being a smartass. "One of you, give me a credit card, yeah? I'll believe the name on the plastic." She says this to Joey, who's just then proclaiming to be Jaime. Ain't her first twin rodeo, seems like. "Spelling noted if you tip well." She smiles and slides over a bowl of thirsty-making bar pretzels.

"Alright, thank you to, uh.... Jennie, for that lovely performance. Next up, give it up for -Echo-! And remember to show that appreciation -- tip your waitresses, tip your bartenders, tip your -girls-! Show that love." Antonio's voice comes again over the speakers as he looks expectantly to the stage, sipping his martini all the while.

The stage starts with lights out for "Echo" and, of all the things you do not expect to hear a stripper perform to, it's Tchaikovsky. The Swan's theme from Swan Lake begins (https://youtu.be/9cNQFB0TDfYand as the lights come up, the dark-haired woman is there, in a rhinestone-covered, black silk and tulle tutu with black pointe shoes. Diamonds (all right zirconia) glitter at her ears, and a large, clear stone set in the black silk ribbon choker around her slender throat. Roxy is en pointe as she makes her way down the stage towards the pole, and stops to pirouette for a dizzying number of spins. Then as the first trumpeting of the song begins, she snaps a leg up to her head, holding it with one hand, spinning, and setting her foot, above her head, on the stripper pole.

That is when the song changes to the thrumming guitar intro of "Bad Things" by Jace Everett, better known as the theme to True Blood (https://youtu.be/sMPNjPpdjKU). She begins working down the zipper on the side of the tutu. When you came in, the air went out. And every shadow filled up with doubt.

Inch by slow inch. I don't know who you think you are, but before the night is through It comes undone and she bends over backwards in a walkover off the pole. //I wanna do bad things with you."

The tutu puddles in a pile of silk and tulle at her feet, leaving her in black lace gloves, stockings, garters, and two wide, black silk ribbons tied in bows, one across her chest, and one across her hips, just managing to conceal the important parts. Well, important for here.

Nicole stares at Sparrow again. Her glossed lips part slightly with her 'are you insane?' expression. "Me? Go up there?" A slender finger points to the stage, as if there were any other option for those words. "I... I can't dance." She shakes her head but then Sparrow leans in to whisper to her. While Sparrow speaks, her eyes look towards the stage, but when Sparrow pulls back, Nicole's brown eyes set on her again with a furrowed brow for a moment before she leans in as well.

Greg pays his money to the bouncer and strolls into the Platinum, his deep brown eyes lazily scanning the room as he makes his way towards the bar. With his eyes on the stage, he settles onto a barstool, digging out his wallet. He watches quietly for a moment before turning around to offer the bartender a card to open a tab on. "Let me get a rum and coke," he asks, then turns to look up and down the bar to see who else is here.

"Damn, look at that." Antonio's eyes glimmer with enthusiasm as he watches the stageshow, taking a delicate sip of his martini. "That's quite the ensemble for an amateur. And original, too. Real nice and original." The club owner certainly seems impressed.

Tchaikovsky and tutus and pointe shoes is a new one on Itzhak for the whole stripper scene! It lures him close to the rail to get a better look. "Whoa," he mutters.

Sparrow mutters, "What. The. Fuck," as the show begins with ballet. Not some cheap imitation of ballet, but... like... ballet. Blink. "Uh..." That's all she manages in answer to Nicole for a moment as she stares up at 'Echo' taking this very nontraditional approach to amateur night. When the music shifts, she grins a little, reluctant to turn her attention away, and nods to Nicole. "It is. Couple weeks." She even crosses her heart. So serious! Looking to the blonde, she promises, "I can't dance either. But if you will, I will. And I'll go first. And neither of us will be anywhere near as impressive as that." Pointing up at the stage as Roxy rocks it, she turns her attention thattaway and tilts toward Alfie for another little whisper, grinning.

Swan Lake? Tchaikovsky? Ruiz's curiosity is piqued. He's leaning against the railing already as Itzhak wanders over, flicker of something at the corners of his mouth when the tutu drops. It takes him a minute to notice the cranky mechanic who's joined him, and slants him a look in askance for a moment before turning back to the stage. "You're here for the ballet, or the naked girls?" he queries.

"I was just as good as -that-, right? Don't you think?!" The college chick in the black lace bra chugs the rest of her Long Island as she desperately seeks validation from her friends.

Alfie starts to toy with the empty shot-glass, spinning it between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. And he splits his vaguely distracted attention between watching the exchange between Sparrow and Nicole at his table and Roxy dancing on the stage - initial interest having been snagged by a familiar classical rendition that might just recall years upon years of tutoring. He blinks back into some present clarity though at the next little whisper and he nods a reply after he meets her gaze with a searching look. He lifts a little from his seat to whisper something back.

On her way past, she touches Antonio's sleeve. "Glad you like it." Love leans in to sat that, then she's headed back over to work on Itz's drink, smashing that sugar cube with a wooden muddler, sugar-slurry spread across the bottom of the rocks glass. She splashes in soda water, gives it a lengthy stir, watching one of the dancers up on stage while the sugar dissolves. A large round ice cube is slid into the glass, and Love follows with Buffalo Trace bourbon, a generous pour. A twist of orange peel is run around the rim, and she slips that to Itzhak, atop a bar napkin.

To Mae, Love says, "Not bad, even with double vision." She nods down the bar to Joey and Jaime, who may or may not have slipped off by now. " We could use another bucket of ice, but that's what bouncers are for." Since apparently they double as bar backs in a pinch, and Love's not risking her manicure on a heavy bucket of ice tonight. The cash offered over is jammed it into her back pocket, to be sorted out the next time she walks past the register.

Lyric sets up a few songs, several actually, before she goes backstage. She remains back there while the music plays.

Ballet becomes something far more sensual as the ribbon clad Echo stalks the stage, still en pointe, spinning on a toe like gravity has no effect on her. A hip cocks, and then an arm snaps as her lace glove-clad hand grabs the pole. She propels herself around it, the ribbons almost flashing more than her pale skin at the spectators in an epic moment of teasing. Her shoulder length bob whips around with every too-graceful movement, partly-concealing her eyes which flash bright blue against the black strands. She slides down the pole with her back to it, before crawling on all fours to the edge of the stage like a panther stopping in front of Itzhak.

Roxy plucks up one end of the ribbon concealing her breasts in one hand, and beckons the lanky mechanic close. When his face in in range, she puts the ribbon end in his mouth to hold with his teeth, before she begins sliding back, dipping her body low to the stage as the bow begins to unknot, then arching backwards so it unties entirely, leaving her topless in a backbend, her arms over her head and sliding up and down her gloves. Itzhak is left holding the ribbon

She rolls over and up to her knees, sliding her hands up her bare torso as she slithers her way to another spectator at the stage rail, stopping in front of Ruiz. The ribbon end wrapped around her hips is then offered to the cop, because she doesn't realize he's a damned cop, for him to take in his teeth. This time when it's firmly held, she rises and spins rapidly, until the bow comes undone and the ribbon drops away, leaving her bare save for the stockings and gloves and shoes. She strikes a dancers's pose, giving them the briefest glimpse of everything. I wanna do real bad things with you... and the lights go out again. When they come up again, she's safely backstage in her trench coat.

It's Roxy's rendition as it starts that truly gets Dylan's attention, one dark brow arching upwards as it begins with ballet. This draws a broad smile to the corners of his mouth, and for whatever reason it's a brief glance cast towards Mae that the artist gives, checking out to see what she thinks of it. Another sip of that shot, this one savored,, and soon enough the brunt of his focus is on that amateur who sure seems like she knows what she is doing.

This place is swimming, and in Blake has literally moved further and further away from the center of the bar in a series of small retreats. He sips on some kind of fruity drink, finding solace in how quiet and undemanding it is, though the taste makes him purse his lips. It's a complicated relationship. When the stage comes to life, Blake looks over his shoulder to get a feel for the routine when he registers the music. He pulls the tiny drink umbrella from his glass and tries to expand and retract it.

Joey finishes signing whatever they want him to sign that says I'm not allergic to fun blah blah blah, and signs off on Jaime's too. They are slid back over the bar. He wades over to Sparrow and Nicole, "suuuuup ladies?" He pauses and looks up at Echo bringing some real deal dance skills to the forefront, "Holy shit she's got the feet-squish shoes and everything." That gets a sharp trilling whistle. His drink is set down with a clap. God he knows even just a little and that's too much, though this is certainly giving him a revivified interest in it. Dmpling a wry grin to Nicole he shrugs, "You trusted me. Aren't you glad you did? I did promise you two drinks. Tell Love at the bar when you want em." Becuase fair is fair. To Ruiz he says, "Captain if you came to make sure we're staying out of trouble you're gonna fail miserably."

That finale though? Hot shit. "I should go back to been a bouncer man." says the boxer. Hindsight, yo.

"I'm here to see the Kelly brothers get naked, actually," Itzhak replies to Ruiz, kind of absently, watching the dancer do her thing. Then said dancer is suddenly all up in his business and he turns brightly, embarrassingly, humiliatingly red, with a black ribbon in his teeth. "Whf th'fk." He drops the ribbon from his teeth once Roxy is done with him, blushing so hot he's going to give himself heatstroke. ...Then he tips her. Generously.

"Awww yeah, folks. And -that's- what amateur night is all about. If you enjoyed Echo, show her some love and splash that cash. And give that young lady some APPLAUSE, folks." Antonio's voice booms over the sound system as Echo's set music fades out and is replaced by the more conventional, nondescript booty hip-hop that this place specializes in.

Jaime seems more impressed by this performance than the first, and so some cash escapes his wallet and is carried up and over toward the stage, where he leans comfortably, not far away, watching the performance. For this one, he splashes some cash her way at some point before her performance ends. Then, shaking his head, he wanders back toward the bar, and Joey, saying "Can't say as I've ever seen that before." He takes another long drink from the 7&7.

"That's the way I like it," Sparrow croons back to Alfie, dark lashes dipping low as her smile goes wide. Her attention lingers on him for just a moment before turning back to the show, eyes widening for the way the ballerina works it so expertly. Fucking magical, that. She's clapping when she addresses Joey, a little late, bright-eyed gaze lifting as she calls up, "Hey, handsome. I am so ready for Double Trouble. Working on a little plan of my own." She winks his way, all conspiratorial-like. Pointing to the chairs, she notes, "You and yours--" Cue a look over toward Jaime. "--are welcome to joi us. Before, after, during. Any old time you'd like."

Ice. Bouncers. Mae missed most of the conversation going on around her as she watches Echo do her thing on stage. She makes a note to tip her once she makes her way back out into the crowd, putting her fingers in her mouth to whistle loudly after the performance. She does wink at Dylan, flashing him a brief smile before she picks up her glass to drink from it. "Ahh, more pink stuff. This is the best, thanks." She says to Love, raising her glass slightly.

Ruiz gives Itzhak a look like, well, I can't fault you for that, and turns back in time to be handed a ribbon by the girl on stage. He flashes her a grin, then dutifully catches the thing between his teeth like she shows him, eyes riveted on her as the ribbon unravels. Completely shameless about ogling her for the entirety of her little routine. He, too, tips her of course. Bill folded lengthwise, smile fading away as he watches her disappear into the back. "Get you a drink?" he asks the taller man next to him, without looking over.

"Uh..." Nicole is no longer staring at Sparrow. She's staring alright, but at 'Echo' not Sparrow. "You expect me to go up there after that? All that? I'm not dressed for... that." Nicole shakes her head again, looking almost petrified. "That's downright professional burlesque... just... holy shit. She's good, you know?" It takes her a moment to register that Joey is talking to her. She looks up to him confused at first then says, "Oh! Yes... I did trust you. I am not sure about the glad part yet..." She grins, then adds with a slightly flirtatious tone, "ask me after you go up." A wink is given to the gym owner. "Oh, right, two drinks.. and a favor, right?" She looks towards the bar at Love and nods. "Got it..."

Alfie reflects Sparrow's smile habitually, as she beams down at him. Partly conspiratorial, for things whispered. As Joey addresses Nicole and Sparrow at the table, he goes ahead and takes another of the tequila shots. But rather than take it all at once, he starts to sip from the rim of it like it's an espresso. And he turns his attention back to the parting motions of the performance of ribbons and interactive spectators.

Love swings by for Greg's credit card. "Always here for the plastic," she says, wandering off with it. Tab opened, card stowed in a little tray in back with a number. She pauses to jam a bunch of cash into the register like the semi-professional she is. By the time she wanders back, her gaze is on the stage again, taking glimpses of the dancer as she can, while mixing or shaking drinks.

Rum & Coke is easy, a pour, a top up with Coke over ice. The Platinum's Coke isn't too syrupy, has a nice carbonated bite, and pairs well. She gives it a stir, tucks in a straw, and leaves it in the care of Greg while his back's turned.

"Mae, girl, I should just keep a thermos chilled back here with those things. I'm addicted now, too." Tart, fruity martinis are the shit. "We find that pool..." she trails off watching the show, mostly the ribbon part, and grins, "I'll definitely bring the drinks."

"Next up, we got our very own DJ. Show her some love if you like what you see. And if you don't like what you see, you can get the fuck out." Antonio's voice glides over the music, and is punctuated by a laugh.

Roxy emerges from backstage once she's dressed again and in her much more sedate black trench coat. She accepts tips as they are handed to her with just the slightest hint of a smile, like daring people to get a real one out of her. Definitely not an amateur. She reaches the bar and quietly asks Love for a sidecar to drink.

The strip club boss looks down the bar to Roxy, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he finishes his second martini, pushing the glass forward for another once more. "That was tight. Real nice. I bet that wasn't the first time you danced on a stage, huh?" He chuckles under his breath, seemingly good-natured enough.

Sparrow eyes Nicole for a moment. Thoughtful. Considering. Without actually answering, she just pushes to her feet, angles a very expectant look down at the blonde, blows a kiss to Joey... and then starts off toward the bar to figure out where to get one of those waivers. And three margaritas for her table. Poor dears need more tequila. Lots more tequila.

Roxy looks to Antonio with that same tiny smile. "No, not the first time. But I have only been here for a few days. I was hoping, perhaps, to work here. If you have an opening of course." The tips get tucked away into a coat pocket, some going into a separate one to be sure to give to the DJ for her assistance once she returns to her booth.

Itzhak takes a too-big, awkward swallow of the Old Fashioned Love mixed for him. The poor drink deserves better. "You got me last time, lemme buy you one first," he says to Ruiz, but he's still staring a little blankly into the middle distance.

Greg's giving with the applause for Roxy's act. It's free, after all. He accepts his rum and cola when it comes with gratitude, and gulps a healthy measure of the drink right down. He waves down the bar to Blake. "How's shit fam?" he calls to the other man with a friendly tone. It seems the question is somewhat rhetorical, because Greg clutches his drink and turns back around to watch the stage. He seems subdued tonight, compared with his usual ebullience.

It's the first time ever Lyric has taken the stage at the Cabaret. Or any strip club for that matter. She'd seen the girls do it enough though, so she's decided to try it. Without the added danger of the pole to help make a fool out of herself. The music is loud and the lights are dim and she dances out on stage with green and white lights on her.

Her costume is a camouflage coat, a camo hat pulled low over her brow and matching booty shorts. The combat style boots she wears has a thick sole to boost her height by several inches and when the cue from the music comes, she starts dancing! Her hips gyrate to the beat, a looong slow circle then a thrust, thrust before her hand goes to her hat and she tips it back in time to the music. The jacket is discarded and it leaves her in those booty shorts and a camouflage bra that shows more than it conceals.

To her knees she goes, the dance continued before she crawls to the edge. Bills are stuffed long ways into her straps and she looks surprised as she gets more into it. Around the entire half circle she dances going from knees to her rear, legs spread, but still covered since her shorts cover her well enough. Then back to her knees where she leans forward and money is stuffed in her bra.

Continuing to crawl around the rail, she comes face to face with Ruiz and bites her lip, lowering her lashes over her eyes it a demure look that is all too real to be staged.

Pushing back, she looks at him one more time before rising to her feet in a slow spin, leaning back against the pole, she lowers again, legs apart, only to rise again back to her feet. Slowly, the camo bra is unfastened, letting it fall to the stage floor, she turns in time to have her back to most of the people. Peeking over her shoulder shyly, she lifts a finger to her lips,in the shhh gesture before turning around in a hip rotating turn. The hat she'd been wearing now covers her breasts.. somewhat, just her nipples, but she accidentally drops it and mock gasps, her mouth an O with her hand over it.

She's certainly not a professional and with this crowd, she knew far too many of them to bare the lower half. The music starts to fade and she takes a brief bow before collecting the camo jacket and tugging it on. Time to get back to work!

"Oh, I don't even have to ask? Like you're reading my mind, sweetie. We sure are hiring, and even if we weren't, I'd sign you up anyway." Antonio winks to Roxy, his smirk remaining constant. "Come see me in the office sometime and we can talk specifics, but the arrangement here is probably more or less what you're used to from elsewhere."

Ruiz joins in the applause, and idly tracks Roxy as she makes her way through the crowd. Something about the way he's watching her, doesn't seem like he's just being some random creep leering at a hot girl. Might be something else about her that's got his LEO sense tingling. "Por supuesto," he murmurs to Itzhak. "No te rechazaré. Tequila, por favor." He shoots him a quick grin, and is summarily distracted by the next performer, the Cabaret's very own DJ. He settles in to watch with that lazy slant of his eyes, not so much as a flinch when the blonde crawls up to within inches of him. He looks her right in the eye; a challenge? Something.

"On the house for you." Love says to Roxy. "Nice trick with the ribbons." Her smile is genuine when the says that. "The man with the mic would probably like to have a word." Antonio, that is. "Sidecar's one of my favorites." She picks up a fresh shaker, a jigger, and in goes cointreau, cognac, and a generous amount of fresh lemon juice from a glass bottle close to hand.

Love rims a coupe glass with sugar with one hand, turning the stem between inky fingers. "How long have you been dancing?" She caps the shaker and goes to it until the metal turns ice cold in her hands, straining the cheery yellow cocktail into the sugar-rimmed glass. She slips the Sidecar to Rox, garnishing it with an orange twist, the citrus oils a sharp scent to pair with each sip.

The tall, tattooed woman leans against the bar to watch Lyric shake it for at least a few bars of the song, grinning at her choice of ensemble.

Dylan fishes out cash from his pocket, sliding it on the bar for drink and tip alike, and once it's taken he pushes off from his spot. On down he goes, sliding a tip to Roxy as well without so much as a single word, only a deep, appreciative nod from the artist, and ultimately it is to Mae that he comes to stop next to. A few whispered words as he tugs on the strap of that messenger bag he totes along with him, and a pause for a response, all the while his gaze following Lyric as the DJ puts on her own show on the stage.

"Looks like next up, we've got DOUBLE TROUBLE. That's all it says -- I don't know what this is. But it doesn't matter, cheer your hearts out and splash that cash!" Antonio's voice cuts through the music again.

There's a tip for Lyric from Jaime as well, and a whistle for her before he glances to Joey then over in Sparrow's direction. "We going to go join them?" he asks idly, not seeming concerned one way or the other as to what the answer is. He casually lounges wherever he is, just enjoying taking things in and making slow work of his acquired drink. That is, until Antonio calls he and Joey up to the stage. "Oh, hey, that's us."

Joey winces as NIcole tacks on the last bit. "Shit I forgot about the favor. Yeaaah yeah I'm good for it. Looking to Jaime, he asks holding that , "Aren't you glad you're in town this weekend. Look they already called the cops and everything. It's a legit party." gotta jam. don't throw things less you were wearin it first." Smart all.

Alfie continues sipping tequila. But even at this rate, it doesn't take long before the little glass is absent the beverage that it once possessed. And he watches as Lyric takes to the stage, and peers about as 'Double Trouble' are called up.

Sparrow sidles up to the bar, edging toward Antonio as she catches him making the announcement for the Kelly twins. And catches Jaime's comment. "You should," she tells him. "When you're done. No rush." Returning her attention to the announcer, she tells him, "I'd like to sign up. Sparrow. And, uh..." She fishes out her phone to share the song. Easier that way. Pointing back to the table she came from, specifically to Nicole, she notes, "And I expect she'll be following soon after. Just gotta get her up here to sign her ass away for a song."

Itzhak is also embarrassed when Lyric does the thing at Ruiz, trying not to ogle her too openly. He knows he did something to upset her, but for the stupid life of him, he has no idea what. But he tips her to pour cash on troubled waters. Anyway he goes to fetch a couple few tequila(s), thwapping Ruiz lightly on the back. Oh then the Kellys are gonna be on! Itzhak gets back as soon as he can--not that soon, with the crowd at the bar.

Roxy's smile deepens by a fraction of an inch at the offer from Antonio, and she dips her head in a nod. "I will, and I'm sure the arrangement is equitable. Tomorrow?" she asks. Then Love is giving her the sidecar. "Kiitos," she says softly. Thank you, in Finnish. Not that anyone here would possibly know Finnish. She seems to remember that fact and tacks on a, "Thank you," tipping the tender despite the drink being free. "It is an inexpensive, but effective, outfit for the stage," she agrees about the ribbons. She takes a sip from the drink and makes a sound of appreciation for it. "Many years. Since I was four." Pause. "Not this sort of dancing. That just a few years. Two, I believe?" She accepts Dylan's tip much as she did Ruiz's, with a twitch of a smile and a lowering of her lashes, almost demure.

"Lyric I owe you a drink, and a tip!" Mae calls out in her direction, waving a hand to catch her attention. If the young DJ comes closer, she'll murmur a few quiet words in her direction, slipping her a tip. She leans to the side, watching the stage to see the next amateur act. Twins? "This is gonna be good."

"Anytime, sugar. You'll be very successful here. Which means I'll be very successful here, which means everyone will enjoy themselves." Antonio belts out a laugh, taking up his next martini and sipping as he looks toward the stage. "Wonder what this double act is all about, eh?"

Once back at the DJ booth, Lyric gets back into action. Between sets she'll have to go change back into her uniform but for now she lets the camo coat cover her. Buttoning a few of the buttons for modesty's sake. Then it's Joey and Jaime and she whistles, to cheer them on.

"It's obvious, and it was worth watching. Thanks for the show." Love says to Roxy. "You're welcome." She's saying just as the translation's coming on the heels of that word. She's been in enough bars in enough parts of the world that she knows a thanks when she hears it. Along with a select few other things.

A dip of Dylan's head comes in agreement to whatever Mae whispers back, and then it's onwards from the bar and through the club. A brief glance is given over at the mention of double trouble, one dark brow arching upwards when he sees whom is heading towards the stage, but it doesn't deter the artist, soon enough slipping on past through the front doors.

Lyric smiles over at Mae. "Anything I know I learned from you!" Blowing the dancer a kiss, laughing a little.

Oh, Itzhak. Terrible timing. "You'd better hurry back," cautions Ruiz as he's clapped on the back and abandoned by the mechanic wading his way to the bar. His voice is pitched a bit louder, eyes on the stage, "I think your boys are up next."

The stage lights drop long enough for Lyric to roll the song [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gz2GVlQkn4Q]

The heady groan of the bass and chanting kick in invitation to the next live event.

Come with me now...
Come with me now...

Double trouble indeed and the stage flashes and lights the hell on up strobing for the disrobing. The Kelly Boys have not changed one damn bit still registering at charmingly feral levels of trouble and exciting bad life choices in presumably fitted gleans and fitted t-shits, and them heavy ass biker boots.

Do they do this for a living? Hell no they ain't got the time.
They take a bet? You're god blessed right they did!

Woah come with me now
I'm gonna take you down
Woah come with me now
I'm gonna show you how

It's like being young hot and stupid all the fuck over again, but in tandem synchronization prowlingthe stage like denim caged beasts shaking their ass in them tight jeans. There's a high five and a flick of hands to the crowd to find out who wants it bad as the shirts come up showing up the goods little by little before, and then off being whipped overhead in gyrations like a couple of badass urban cowboys comprised of abs, dimple, shoulders, and absolutely no carbs or common sense. It's a wild fucking ride and as the music calls out the wild boys war cry with gyrations and abs.

Dahlia wasn't dancing tonight. Leave it to the 'Amateurs'. She'd been working some patrons, flitting here and there, checking on people and playing the part of waitress that was just second nature to her from all those years of waitressing. She'd gone outside to get some air and take a little bump of coke for some extra energy. She could quit whenever she wanted to.

That's when she spotted Park coming in and gave the girl and easy smile. "It's a big crowd tonight honey. But it'll be fun. You gonna get on that stage?" A little tease to the younger woman as she walked inside with her. Just in time to watch the Kelly boys get up there and appreciate that view.

Blake squints past the drink umbrella, bringing Ruiz into focus in the background as the dancer interacts with him. When Greg calls out to him in his deep stare that he hopes is camouflaged by the massive amount of people, he blinks and offers a slightly awkward grin. His hand is lifted to return the greeting, perhaps even answer, but then Greg's already onto something else. He moves from the stage, taking the tiny umbrella in his hand and begins to wander toward the rail seating with his eye on some inconspicuous non-front-row seating. It's still somewhat within reach of the dancers though.

"Ah, yeah. Got ourselves a male revue on amateur night. I dig it, I dig it. Dollar signs." Antonio laughs to himself, drinking steadily as he shoots a look between Love and Roxy.

At the bar, Love pauses with a bottle of gin in hand. "I think I had this dream once."

Greg groans with good-natured embarrassment as a couple of dudes take the stage. "Nope," he invokes, turning himself back around to the bar. Without a show to watch, though, he just seems to fall into staring into his drink. He even misses Blake's wave in return to his greeting as he loses himself in thought, and the occasional sip of his alcohol.

Lyric is one waving her hands for one of the shirts. They were twins, both were hot. She'd put it on in the DJ booth.

Roxy turns to watch the Kelly boys do their thing and she looks amused. "Twins. Twins bring in the big bucks," she murmurs. She pushes off the bar to head to the DJ booth and slip Lyric a tip for spinning her music, before she moves closer to the rail. She sips from her sidecar and watches the boys.

Mae stares at the stage, seemingly stunned into silence. "Holy shit." She finally says, nodding along with Love, a smirk forming on her lips. "I'm going to go up there and tip them." She states, sliding off of her stool to walk over, she doesn't sit at the rail, but she leans in and tosses money on the stage, cheering with the rest of the crowd. It's loud, most of the crowd on their feet.

Bad timing is a troublesome habit in a musician, yet Itzhak has it in shovelfuls. He abandons trying to put in a drink order to get back to the rail because this, this he can't miss! And do the Kellys disappoint? You bet your tuchis they don't. Itzhak whistles loud and sharp at them, grinning like a maniac as they take it off.

Heaving a -big- sigh, Nicole takes another shot from the line up in front of her, downs it, and rises up. "Fiiiiine," she whines in protest, making her way to the bar with a call to Alfie over her shoulder. "I'll be back." She asks for one of the waivers and turns to watch the stage again. She is laughing and smiling, whistling even for the duo and their gyrations. Okay, maybe she is having some fun after all.

"Hands free!" Love yells after Mae.

As the music for Double Trouble's performance starts up, Sparrow drifts away from the bar back to her table, sinking in right where she was. Are there drinks? Maybe someone forgot something, distracted by the promise of shiftless Kellys up on stage. She's quiet while she watches, though one hand settles loosely on Alfie's arm, casual contact kept. The only thing that tugs her attention away from the twins is Nicole's departure. THAT has her grinning.

Ruiz is absolutely not above admiring the show being put on by the twins. Hot is hot, and that? Is hot. He chortles at the whistle from Itzhak, and looks over briefly as Blake joins them. Who is he again? Right, that kid. From the other night. With the friends looking for a fight. "Evening," he greets in a rumbly murmur, eyes on the stage.

"On stage? Does it need cleaning?" Park deadpans to Dahlia before a blushing snort of amusement. "No one wants to see me shaking something I don't have. I'm here to help out Lyric. As always." She is in her club uniform already of tight Cabaret t-shirt and booty-shorts, happily surprised to see men dancing. "This is amateur night, isn't it?" she asks Dahlia. "Not Ladies' Night. Not that they're ladies." A dance move or two confirms this. "Oh my" Park blushes with wide eyes. "I should help Lyric." To the DJ booth! Though she will give Sparrow an excited wave as she nears the bar. "Hey!"

Roxy holds up a twin pair of tens, one for each twin, in one hand, rolled up like cigars and pointing in opposite directions so each can claim one. She flits a glance to the others on the rail, especially her two audience participation members, and gives them a nod of thanks for their sportsmanship during her performance.

Dahlia laughed. "Hey, like Boss Man said, all types." Teasing her with a wink. "Have fun. Lemme know if you need anything to drink." Dahlia let the woman go to Lyric and moved over to the bar. "Can I get a water pretty please." Smiling to Love. "And another old fashioned for table 3?" Eyes drifting back over to the stage periodically to watch.

Mae makes her way back to the bar, taking a seat as she crosses her legs. "Hands free." She snorts at Love, sticking her tongue out in her direction. "As if you need to remind me." She picks up her drink, gives it a once over, since she left it unattended and then sips at it. She glances at Antonio, eyebrows quirked. "So, we should maybe do this again sometime later this year, yeah?"

Alfie lifts the empty glass that he's playing with, in reply to Nicole's that she'll return. He sets the glass back down next to his first, like a running tally - at least until they get collected. When Sparrow returns, he sits up a little more. And he settles into that contact with his arm, leaning toward her a little. And this time, he summons up a ghost of a smile without it being prompted by one of Sparrow's own.

"Later this year, once a month even? Yeah. Big money night -- I like it." Antonio smirks, his eyes sparkling with appreciation as he looks to Mae. "Gotta come up with more events too. The more the merrier."

Love goes back to mixing up a batch of the 'pink stuff,' which is what the staff has affectionately termed a tart vodka martini flavored with raspberry liqueur and pineapple juice with just a little touch of something sweeter. The shaker goes while she's watching the twins do what she imagines would be a stripping routine by Daryl Dixon from Walking Dead... if you're drunk enough to see two of him. She pauses, squinting, then laughs. Maybe it's what Mae said making her laugh. Probably.

"You got it, babe." The bartender says to Dahlia, as she passes over an ice water with a straw. She drops a sugar cube in a rocks glass and that bitters-and-wait routine follows, muddled only once it's softened a little, splashed with water, and stirred till the sugar dissolves. "Enjoying your night offstage?" Ice, bourbon, orange twist: Old Fashioned. She slides the rocks glass over, tucking a little stir straw along the edge.

If there is one thing that Jaime is, it's absolutely shameless. He grins broadly as he and Joey play it up for the crowd. The music is thumping along and there are tips to be acquired. Jeans are unzipped and a glimpse of the boxer briefs below are flashed as he sinks down to his knees to allow bills to be tucked into the waistband by a couple of the ladies near the rail. Charming smiles and rakish winks are distributed liberally. Roxy's tip is graciously collected, the rolled up cash like a cigar tucked behind his ear.

Tips collected, he rolls back up to his feet, and the two continue their only half-choreographed performance. It's not like they've never gotten up in front of a crowd before -- hell, Jaime's a performer. But they certainly aren't either one of them actual dancers. What they lack in tutus and pointe shoes, they do make up for in raw energy and enthusiasm. That is, until the song comes to an end and the display of skin and muscle comes to a close. Bows are offered, and a blown kiss to the audience, before they make their way offstage.

Blake watches the twins routine without taking his eyes off of them. His expression leaves a lot to be determined, but he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his wallet, and places some money on the stage. No flinging or baiting of the dancers. He looks over to Ruiz and his eyebrows arch gently. "You're alive," he says as if he half expects it to change like the weather. There's no jolliness in his tone. The range is softly muted. His blue eyes flick to the nearby Itzhak and back.

The music grinds out like one big bawdy party.

I need to move, I need to fight
I need to lose myself tonight

One shirt gets flung up to the DJ for hooking them up. THe most important part is makig the crowd engaged and the matching musician and hte boxer love some fuckin people! Nicole and sparrow get the double guns and a wink. Mae bringing cash? Jaime gets the nod and that/ Tha's a power slide to front stage all abs an ink and a lot of appreciateion.

I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

When they get up though thatem's some tear away jeans and some tight black bikini briefs and high fives her. Ruiz, This is totally counting as compliance withthe Police in teh form of a self-service strip search. Everything on them is contraband, folks. And then the end which is a stomp in boots and a gathering of garments. There's a bow and the cash from that floor. He kisses two fingers and points to teh room tapping his chest.

Jaime gets a high five and they're off that stage.

"Now -that- was something, wasn't it? And you won't see that type of show here, unless you come down for amateur night. So tell your friends, tell your loved ones, tell your grandmother. Next up, we got -Sparrow-! Show that love and splash that cash." Antonio's voice bellows over the music.

Lyric returns the drive as Echo comes over for it, offering her a smile. "That was so amazing. I hope you stay around. I take care of all the girls music here." And Park arrives. "And so does Park here. She's a DJ also." A smile to the other girl, "It's been so fun tonight so much talent. Look at the twins up there." Swoon and stuff. As it ends, she applauds the duo. "Encore!"

Dahlia took the water with a grateful sip. "Most definitely. We've got a good crowd tonight, and lots of talent." She grinned. "And a nice amount of eye candy. I'm sad I couldn't get Declan up there this time around." She laughed. Picking up the alcoholic drink when it was ready, "Thanks hon." Another smile flashed and she's moving on. Drink to table 3, checking in on a few of the other tables as she makes her way towards the stage. Checking on the people who don't have drinks in their hands. Itzhak, that woman there, Ruiz, that guy over- wait. What? Dahlia pauses briefly as she spots Ruiz. Of course he was here.

She starts with <<Itzhak>>, those emerald eyes solely focused on him like he might just be the only guy in here and she really wants to take his order. "Glad you came back honey, can I get you anything to drink?"

Greg keeps sipping at his drink, and eventually, as was bound to happen, finds the bottom of the glass. He heaves a heavy, oddly defeated sigh, setting the glass on the bar and flagging down a bartender to run his card and pay his lame one-drink tab. While he waits, his gaze wanders listlessly back to the stage.

Itzhak cracks up over Joey and Jaime's hot-and-ridiculous, uh, whatever that was. "Them boys are trouble." He'll turn red if a lady stripper approaches him, but he's perfectly composed when it comes to ogling and heckling the Kellys. Speaking of approaching, 'Echo' is nodding to him, and he raises his eyebrows at her. "That was a class act." Then there's Dahlia and he grins at her a little sheepishly. "Just to see my buddies. Could you bring a couple rounds of tequila for me and him, and him?" He indicates Ruiz and Blake, who he doesn't know but who is now being bought tequila.

Jaime, once again reassembled with clothing in place, wanders back out in time to hear Sparrow called up to the stage and he lets out a sharp wolf-whistle before she even gets up on stage.

A hug in greeting for Lyric from Park, and a quick kiss to each cheek. "Hi!" she smiles happily to Echo before following Lyric's gesture to check out the men on stage. Park looks like she is about to keel over in a faint any moment but they don't go the Full Monty, or Twin Monty Pythons, before they are off the stage. The woman breathes again before glancing at her fellow DJ's clothing. "Did we change our costume for amateur night?" She's never wearing the right clothes. And then the announcement that Sparrow, drummer extraordinaire, is going to get up a boogie. "I know her!" she squeals at Lyric. "She's in a band too."

The girl with neon red hair who takes the stage has got to be barely drinking age. Someone carded Sparrow at the door, right? Sparrow's probably a stage name, right? She hardly looks dressed for this: chunky, high-gloss red Dock Martens with slouchy black socks; a two-tone denim skirt with a rough cut hem hitting mid-thigh and buttons down the front; a tight red halter top that leaves her midriff bare; and a black faux-sating jacket with embroidered silver stars, some hollow and some filled, all over it. Her lipstick is more muted than either her hair or her attire, but her dark eyeliner is skillfully applied. It's a look.

She stands with her back to the audience as the music starts up--Cruise Control by GRiZ featuring BXRBER--a slow sway of her hips starting about ten seconds in, but it's another few measures before she starts dancing in earnest, the countdown and crooning answered with a spin that doesn't quite stop at center. It doesn't faze her any. Her hands go to the edges of her jacket as the singer croons, 'Allow me to introduce me,' her grin selling that swag. What she lacks in talent, she makes up for in confidence and a very keen sense of rhythm. Her starry jacket glitters under the lights as she draws it down over her shoulders while her body rolls sinuously as she can manage to the music. By the time he's singing, 'Dark shades like I'm Ray Charles,' she's tossing the jacket out to Alfie, winking his way at, 'Cuz I ain't lookin' for no day job. My life's the story your favorite movie was based off, yeeeeah.' Oh, she's rocking it like she's got all the glitz and the glamour promised in the song.

Sparrow makes use of the pole once and only once, the first time the singer croons about not needing any gravity, one hand grabbing the pole as one foot plants loosely against its base and she throws herself around in a... well, it's definitely a spin, just not an exceptionally graceful one. Not that it slows her down any, right back to the tease when her boots are back on the ground. The buttons of her skirt come undone one at a time as she makes eye contact with the audience, flashing the red panties below once or twice before she turns, spreading that denim open as her hips roll to the music. It draws lower as she bends, revealing the plump curves of her red-clad ass. The skirt, too, gets tossed toward her table when she turns around, arms lifted to untie her halter top.

In one of the dramatic pauses of the song, she cups her covered tits, staring out at the crowd wide-eyed. Then, when the music kicks back up again, 'Let's go-o-o-o-o-o,' she yanks the red fabric away to leave her breasts bouncing free as she finishes out the song topless, working her hips to the rhythm. Shameless. And a little tipsy, arms lifted high into the air as if to cheer for her own damned self when the song's done. All her clothes already flung to her table, she descends in a state of near-undress, sinking back into her seat with an ecstatic giggle.

"I'm very sure this is going to happen again," Love says to Dahlia, just before the dark-haired woman moves off to deliver the Old Fashioned. The amount of drinks flying from the bartop makes that a certainty, not to mention the variety of amateur dancing, ranging from hilarious to artful, all worth a watch. She glances across the crowd, taking in a few familiar faces, semi-familiar profiles, at least, since most eyes are on the stage.

Ruiz tips the dancers, of course, for the excellent show. All that's missing is a drink in his hand. Because Itzhak abandoned him. God. Joey's flashed a grin as he goes to exit the stage, and offered a round of well-earned applause. "For now," he answers Blake with a gamine quirk of his lips. However many days it's been since someone tried to shoot him in the back, it's too few. He hasn't spotted Dahlia just yet, but he probably will soon.

As Antonio makes his way to the office, Mae finds herself with a microphone. She gives it a dubious 'this is not my job' look, before she gestures to Sparrow on stage. "C'mon boys and girls, clearly this girl has been practicing in front of the mirror and she's got a damn fine body and she's showing it! Give her some love, give her some tips, and make some noise!" She thinks that'll do, shifting on the stool as she looks to make sure money is hitting the stage.

Roxy tilts her head, accepting the compliment from Itzhak. "It was also my audition. I believe I will be working here in short order." She sips from her glass, her eyes sweeping up to watch Sparrow and toss bills her way in encouragement.

Lyric returns the hug and laughs, shaking her head. "If you'll take care of the booth, I will go change back. I danced earlier." Even she was surprised she'd done it! She looks to the stage, vaguely remembering the girl from a little younger than her at school. But they hadn't been in the same groups. Lyric was that weird foster kid with the imaginary friend. "Oh neat! I bet she's good at it."

"Aww and here I was thinking you wanted me to dance for you again." Dahlia teased Itzhak with a soft chuckle. A fleeting glance is given to Ruiz and then Blake. Blake gets a little wiggle of fingers. Then she's looking back to Itzhak. "I'll get those rounds for you. Sure thing." She leaves them to enjoy the rest of Sparrow's dance, stopping by the bar to get the tequila. "Three shots of tequila, but make one a double." As she steals another sip of water.

Alfie perks up further still as Sparrow's name gets called. His default state of distractedness falls by the wayside, replaced by attentiveness as he turns his head to display this sudden clarity to Sparrow. And he watches her go, up onto the stage with amused excitement. He stays at the table, but he leans on it with elbows, regard pointed toward the stage. He snorts at her 'spin' around the pole and his gaze tracks the gradual shedding of attire with not at all muted interest on his usually detached countenance. He mirrors her cheer at the end, arms lifted as she lifts hers - about the loudest sound that the soft-spoken, tattooed and petite dude at the table for six has let out all night.

Joey hits up first stop the bar and orders another round up for table six while he's still buttoning his fly. He has fewer shits to give than a honey badger. "That was fun as hell>" He takes his glass and lifts it, "Ladies." And with that brings the other back to drop in front of Nicole with a wry grin. Lil Red is up and fingers pop in either corner of his mouth trilling a whisle. "Fuck yea!!" Leaning back in his chair he clinks his glass to teh one he set down in front of Nicole. clink "See? I promised you a super fun 10 year class reunion. This beats the shit out of staring at yearbook photos." Looking to Ruiz as Jaime catches every bit of Sparrow's show. "Cap'n you seem to have caught me on casual friday. Roz. You made it out man."

Mae glances down at the sheet of paper she was handed, clearing her throat, before she holds the microphone up to her mouth. "Next up we got the sultry Nicole, everyone put your hands together, boys and girls get your bills out, and make some noise to give her some love!" She scans the paper, and then gazes toward the stage, making a motion for Love to fix her a martini. If she's doing Antonio's job, she's gonna drink his drink.

With fresh drinks acquired, Jaime makes his way over to Sparrow's table, finally accepting that invitation now that his own ass-shaking is done for the evening and he settles in to watch her on stage. He whistles and cheers her on, applauding when she finishes her show. He can't help but grin over at Alfie's own finale to Sparrow's performance. Then he gives an encouraging grin to Nicole and says, "Go knock'm dead." He gives her a whistle too, of encouragement. Laughing over at Joey he says, "Considering a second gig with Thunder Down Under?" with a smirk.

Ruiz's response solicits a faint smile from Blake, who seems content to listen to the immediate conversations around him. He spots Dahlia and mouths a hi. "Me?" Blake looks over suddenly to Itzhak as if registering that one of those 'hims' means him. "Thank you. Name's Blake he says in that low sometimes mumbly voice as his eyes slip downwards for a moment, averting gazes.

"None for me?" Sparrow teases Joey with a shimmy of her bare tits when he sets those drinks down for Nicole. Really, she should put those things away. Where's her shirt? She looks to Alfie, her smile going a little dopey, and leans in to press a firm, lingering kiss to his cheek. As she grabs her jacket from him. Withdrawing, she murmurs a sweet, "Thank you," for his heroics, keeping this article of clothing safe for her to recover. She straightens to slip it on, going right for as much coverage as she can manage in one garment, though she lets it hang open just slightly, the skin between either side of the zipper still on display, comfortable in her current state. Her attention finally settles on Jaime, grin wide and pleased. "Looking good, singer-man."

Love takes advantage of a little lull in orders to collect a round of empties, wiping up a few spills on the bar. She tosses the bar towel and leaves the stretch of alcohol in the hands of several other bartenders. She'll hop in if anyone orders a martini or cocktail. She wanders out with an Old Fashioned in one hand, a short apron full of shot glasses and a chunky little bottle of Patrón in the other, capped with a pour spout. "$5 shots until this bottle's empty." Of course she starts at the biggest tables first.

Ruiz's response solicits a faint smile from Blake, who seems content to listen to the immediate conversations around him. He spots Dahlia and mouths a hi. "Me?" Blake looks over suddenly to Itzhak as if registering that one of those 'hims' means him. "Thank you. Name's Blake," he says in that low sometimes mumbly voice as his eyes slip downwards for a moment, averting gazes.

Itzhak predictably flushes, glancing away from Dahlia like he's pretending he doesn't remember what she looks like under her clothes. "Eh, well, yannow, anyway, thanks." He retreats (sort of) back to Ruiz and by extension Blake, and reaches wayyy over with one long damn arm to dap Joey. "You missed ya calling, Kelly." Then the dap is offered to Blake. "Itzhak. How's ya."

"Hell of a lot more fun... even if I cannot believe I am here... You... looked amazing. Or was that Jaime I was staring at?" Her lips curl up in a lopsided smile and she turns to watch Sparrow, clapping and whistling for her friend as well.

After signing the requisite waiver and downing that drink Joey brings, Nicole takes a long, deep breath before heading to the DJ booth. After working out the song, ( https://youtu.be/xGFxrTbKIQY ), she steps up to the stage. Before the music begins, she takes her sandals off and sets them at the edge of the stage out of the way before going to stand next to the pole. She truly is -not- dressed for this, in her body hugging, faded and artistically frayed jeans combined with a silk camisole-style tank top in a rosey peach color, but, here she is.

As a soft sound begins to play, Nicole unbuttons and unzips her jeans, lowering one corner, then the other before slowly bending over and sliding the denim down her legs until she is able to step out of them, leaving her clad in that cami and a pair of dark blue boyshorts. She lifts her arm, reaching up high on the pole, slowly walking around it a couple times before a voice begins and she lifts her feet off the ground. "Fucked and drank all night. Acted all alright. Had no need to fight. Tonight, tonight." The stanza repeats again... "Fucked and drank all night...." Reaching across her body with her other hand to grasp hold, she swings gently, toes pointed, around the pole a couple times, legs straight.

It is then that the music begins with the sound of a woman's voice moaning in seeming pleasure and a thrumming bass. She comes to a stop gently, taking a step back before running one hand down the length of the pole, sliding her feet back and bending over with an arched back until her long hair falls forward. She lifts her head quickly, hair flipping, before rising up. Moving sensually with the that vibrating thrum of the music, she turns her back to the pole, feet spread out wide, rising on her toes, and slides down util her legs are wide apart and her knees are bent at a 90 degree angle.

Amateur night.

The song continues and Nicole walks towards the edge of the stage with a slow sway of those panty clad hips before returning to the pole. She lifts her arms again, grabbing the pole up high and at waist height. She swivel walks in one direction, then the other, then fluidly kicks up her feet to go spinning slowly around the pole and down, body curling around the pole until she straightens out a bit and eventually lands on her knees. She bends backwards until she is nearly flat on the ground, legs beneath her, stretching her arms out to arch her back. Slowly, she rises from this position, her arms crossing, hands caressing the curve of her breast. She turns on her knees and brings them together before quickly sliding them apart into a semi-split and bending backwards as the music comes to a close. It's a short song... but she did get up there... and she didn't seem entirely an amateur.

Greg finally gets his card back, along with a receipt, and he turns to make his way out of the club. He still has that distracted, unfocused mien about him as he approaches the door, drawing his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket. For good measure, he swings by the stage and sets a $20 down on it before ducking out the door in a perfectly-executed Irish goodbye.

Lyric leaves Park at the booth for now and walks over to the bigger table, tipping those who had danced. "Couldn't leave my post earlier, but you did so great. It's fun to watch others dance. I hope you all come next time." She even leaves one for Nicole for when she comes back.

Roxy hands up a tip for Nicole as well, appreciating her athleticism with the pole. She then, quietly, makes her way back towards the bar to sit on a stool and work on her drink.

"C'mon people, more applause, more noise. Give Nicole her due!" Mae calls out, pulling the stemmed martini glass closer to her before she focuses on the microphone again. "We have any other takers? Anyone else brave enough to get up on stage and shake what your mother gave you?" She glances around, chin raised as she waits for anyone offering a positive response. She covers the microphone gently with her hand, speaking to Love. "Might as well get people all liquored up then, start calling Ubers or something."

There's a certain kind of pride in the jacket-catching, clothes protector when Sparrow plants another kiss on Alfie's cheek. His smile is faltering when large, but it stabilizes at lesser levels. And he bows his head. "Anytime," he promises. "I mean, I liked the whole process of you losing it - I figured you should get something back out of it." Hence, jacket catching services.

The opening to Wintersleep's 'Laser Beams' spills out of someone's smartphone, and Alfie turns his head in either direction as Sparrow and Jaime talk, trying to source who the offender might be. Then the realization sets in, slow. It's him. He's the offender. He leans to the right to fish his phone from his back right pocket and scrunches up his nose at the number displayed - looks between it, and Nicole, dancing on the stage. And he leans in to mutter to Sparrow, "Pass on my praise to your friend? You're both awesome." Had he caught Nicole's name at some point? Maybe he doesn't remember. He gives Sparrow an apologetic smile - the first in a while - and it's with a sigh that he pushes up from the booth and steps toward the door.

Ruiz is still hunkered over in a lean against the railing, waiting for a drink to magically materialize in his hand as he keeps half an eye on the show, and the rest on those he's conversing with. He's about to provide introductions, when he seems to realise he doesn't know Blake's name. Or if he does, he's forgotten. "Best day of the week," he tells Joey with a quick wink, gaze trailing after.. yes, that's Dahlia all right. Hopefully she doesn't spit in his drink. Or worse.

Sparrow shamelessly swipes one of Nicole's drinks once the blonde's gone to take her turn on stage. No honor among thieves, clearly. She sips it as she looks at Joey then declares, "Happy early birthday," with a waggle of her brows. Her attention turns to the stage, grinning with pride as Nicole dances. Yep. That's her work up there. Magic-maker, right here. The sound of Alfie's phone steals her attention once he moves to answer it, the source revealed. She blows him a kiss when he gets up, smile soft and skewed to the left, but there's no pouting, no protest. She just watches him go for a few seconds before turning her focus back to Nicole. And drinking what she stole.

Park nods to Lyric as the latter departs, eager to DJ. Nicole's music is synced up and unleashed with the amateur's exotic dancing; even the amateurs are incredible. And Sparrow was incredible too - mix that with her drumming and she'll have it made. With Nicole's set over, the music becomes a little quieter so that the professional dancers and waitresses can offer up some private desserts without yelling propositions in front of undercover cops. Park dancing around at the booth, taking in the crowd, as the music plays.

Ruiz is fucking lucky that Dahlia is a professional. That is all.

She returns to the trio while Nicole is dancing. Giving a low whistle to the woman as she watches a moment and then flashing Itzhak that brilliant smile again. "Here you go baby. Maybe you'll want a dance next time." Setting a single shot in front of him and then Blake, "Good to see you again Blake. Hope you're having fun." Then there's Ruiz. Who gets the double set down with a decidedly fake smile and not a single word. Then she's moving on to take a few more orders.

"You too, little drummer girl," Jaime says to Sparrow when she settles back in. When Alfie has to go, though, he says, "Sorry we didn't get over earlier to say hey, man. Have a good one." Then he settles back in his seat to watch Nicole. He applauds her performance and gives her another wolf-whistle of appreciation.

Love nods, pausing as she moves past Mae, the current emcee. "Yeah, wanna finish out this bottle," she hefts the tequila in hand, "Then call it a night on the discount shots. Shouldn't take too long." She glances across the crowd. "Probably need a few Ubers tonight," she agrees, then touches an elbow to Mae's arm, smiles and makes her way along hawking $5 shots of Patron till that bottle runs dry, leaning over to talk to folks at tables, a lot of tattoos on display for them to peruse.

In flats, she's only five foot eleven, and she leans over enough that no one has to look too far up at her. Her corset's tight, but she straightens if she catches anyone doing an over-long look down the top of it, unless they're buying multiple shots.

Eventually, she makes her way to the rail seating, where all the magic happens.

Grabbing her jeans and sandals, Nicole collects the tip from Roxy with a smile and wink then returns to her table, meeting Lyric there before the woman returns to the DJ booth. She smiles and says, "thanks," pushing her hair away from her face. She folds her jeans onto the seat and sits down on them, choosing not to slip them on just yet. She looks around for Alfie and pouts. "Where'd your friend go?" And then... "Where'd my drink go?" Her dark gaze then turns to Joey. "She said it was your birthday soon... so now I don't have to give you a present." She smiles almost impishly. "Unless you earn another one."

Joey tells Nicole, "Both if you were doin it right." When Sparrow gets back he grins easy and sets the other-other drink down in front of her. CInnamon Toast Crunch. Then Nicole's going up and his eyebrow shoots up up, and then again doing a suspicious double take to Ruiz but the cop gets a wry, dimpled grin and a lift of his glass. Back to Sparrow mouthing You got her to go up there?!. This is not.... okay this isn't how he entirely remembered high school. Parts. It's getting better. He gets back up and says to Jaime and Sparrow, "I'll be back." The part of Joey might be played by Jaime tonight. He's in a good fucking mood. The bill folds up with two fingers flicking it in a get in reach distance tucking those props in where they go. To Itzhak and Ruiz he nods in agreement, "Best night of the week."

When Nicole returns he blinks at her, "Shit I guess not!" There is a slow clap and he takes his seat, "Well paint me impressed. Yeah. Well even though you already got me a damn fine present doesn't mean I won't invite you to join the wild pack on teh great pumpkin heist." He doesn't look at Ruiz but his finger points back to the man addressing him, "You heard nothing."

His drink delivered, Ruiz wastes no time downing about half of it with a long pull, and a jerk of his adam's apple. His arm settles back across the railing, glass dangled from his inked fingers, amber liquid sloshing but not spilling. He's not that careless. He seems to consider saying something to the raven-haired woman as she departs, but then thinks better of it. "Not on the clock tonight, Kelly," he reminds Joey in a low murmur, curving the man a quick smile.

Sparrow feigns wide-eyed innocence as she stares at Nicole and sips the stolen drink. She has no idea where the drink went. None. Not at all. "AJ took off. Phone call." Or something. "Didn't sound like he was coming back, but he said you were fucking awesome. And he was right. Absolutely amazing. To your fuck-me song." She smiles all wide and, yep, still proud at the woman she coaxed into following her up there, so very pleased with the evening. On the wake of Joey's words, she adds, "I'm given to understand there's a show to go with it." With the Great Pumpkin Heist, she means. That might be the tequila talking. Her attention resettles on Jaime, a bit more steady, all low-lidded and scheming. "I could use some fresh air. Could you use some fresh air?" All nice and lazy-like. Just a suggestion.

"I pre-gamed," Blake responds to Dahlia as if this could shed any light on his enjoyment or makes any sense whatsoever in context. "When is this supposed to end?" he asks her as he lifts his shot glass of tequila, but doesn't kick it back. He sort of flinches at the unexpected dap from Itzhak. "Blake. Just kind of loud and packed in here you know? Hard to focus on the dancers." Sure.

As mysteriously as she breezed in, Echo/Roxy breezes back out. She tips the bartender once more, and wends her way through the crowd to the door.

Dahlia makes her way towards Kelly & Co, but does answer Blake.

"Yeah me too." To the pre-gaming. "You know you can leave whenever you want. If you need a ride, I got a good hookup with an Uber driver in the city." Dahlia offered to them, then focused on the group. Kellys, Sparrow, and Nicole - "You guys were all awesome up there! I hope you'll come back again for the next Amateur Night! Can I get you all anything more to drink? Round's on me."

It's definitely time for a smoke break. Ruiz tosses back the remnants of his drink, sets the glass atop a nearby table, and moseys for the door while pulling out his phone, after it lights up with a text message.

Love pours out a few shots for some regulars, leaving little shot glasses full of tequila in her wake. She finishes off her Old Fashioned while she makes the rounds, when heads on back toward the bar. She drops all the shot glasses in her hands off at the bar, and then disappears out the back for a few, probably out for a cigarette. More likely a joint.

Itzhak maybe watches Dahlia's ass go swaying away from him. He knocks back some tequila, coughs, and shrugs blithely at Blake, completely unoffended. "A'ight, I got what I came here for. Nice meetin' ya, Blake." He heads out after Ruiz.

"Yeah," Jaime says to Sparrow, "I think I could use a little air." He turns then to slide away from the table when Dahlia approaches and he laughs, "Maybe. If I happen to be in town and not on the road. Or performing with more clothes and instruments." Because that's more along the lines of the type of performing he's used to. "Think I'm good for drinks for tonight, but raincheck?" He flashes her one of those winning smiles, and then nods toward the door, indicating to Sparrow that he's headed that way, but not before grinning at Nicole and saying, "Nice work, Stein." He claps Joey on the shoulder and says, "I'll catch you at the gym tomorrow."

Smiling bright at Joey. "I did. Yes. How can it possibly get better?" Pumpkins? Well, that's something. She chuckles and says, "alright... if pumpkin heists are what you want, I suppose I can't say no." She looks across to Sparrow who is making it -plainly obvious- she did NOT steal Nicole's drink. Nicole sticks her tongue out at the red head then nods at the bit about Alfie leaving. "Well, it's a good song." She looks down, hair half veiling her face to hide the brief blush that crosses her cheeks. She pushes it back behind her ear then. "A show to go with pumpkins?" She looks at Jaime and Joey. "Another show?" She wiggles her brow. "Fresh air does sound kinda good. Not sure that last drink was a wise choise..." She looks up at Dahlia and smiles. "Hey, thanks!" She points to Jaime then. "Yeah.. raincheck? Raincheck and I'll come to the next one." She winks at the nice twin and winks. "Thanks. You weren't so bad yourself." Then she realizes.... "Oh!" She looks to Sparrow. "You guys.. fresh air.. got it." She closes her eyes and leans her head back a moment. "I'll talk to you soon, S'parrow."

"We'll bring more," Sparrow promises Dahlia, beaming up at the stranger. "This was ridiculous." Which doesn't sound even a little like a bad thing the way she says it, the way she smiles all wide and dopey. She points to Jaime as he takes that raincheck; she's gonna be heading thattway. Once she sets down the half-empty glass she was working on and gathers her skirt and top from the table. The former gets a quick wrap around her hips and a swift working of the top four buttons, the bottom two left undone as she shoves her halter top, tiny as it is, into her pocket. Pointing to Joey, she tells him, "We'll talk later," like they've got some serious business. To Nicole, she adds, "Make sure he--" She means Joey who surely does not need a chaperone. "--gets home safe?" She quick-steps after Jaime. And stumbles a little. Whoa booze. Ahem. Take two. Slower. Exit stage thattaway.

Joey looks to his brother as he's comfortable in his drink and his chair, "Jaim, we will schedule around that." Looking up to Dahlia who usually pays him out, but now with complimentary compliment! Sweet. "Dahlia, you know I will never say no to you buyin me a drink, girl. Uhhhh Honey Nut Cheerio." he's rocking some rum chatta tonight. His hand pats Jaime's and nods. "I got your tab, brother." Nope tonight he's in it to win it.That said the rest of the night is playing sentinal to make sure people stay upright and get home in one damn piece.

The gorilla hovering at the doorway is one of the people that the bouncers 'randomly' stop to pat down. It only adds to his good mirth when Everett ducks under the doorframe and steps inside. Looking around, he sees a sea of faces he doesn't recognize. Then one.

Opening her eyes, Nicole lifts her head and looks to Joey. "I should probably get myself home.. call an uber or something. Happy Birthday, you." She smiles at him and gives his cheek a small peck.

Heading over to the DJ booth he knows Lyric. To whom, Everett hands a thumbdrive. And then removes his leather jacket and gives that to her as well. Seeing as how the stage is all his, Everett takes the boots and socks off too then the giant jogs up there, and points at the booth before taking his stance. Someone's been practicing.

Holding center stage with a black leather vest over his shoulders and rather tight black leather pants with a belt, a barefoot Everett stands center stage. Head down, face curtained with his long black hair that reaches past his pecs when his head is down as it is. Hands clenched to big hammer sized fists, they poise over his lap. The man is frozen, waiting for his cue.

https://youtu.be/_UqOHEPkGms

Twenty-five seconds in, with the bells, climbing, Everett starts to lift his head with them, jumping from higher pitch to pitch. A professional might smile. Everett glares like he lost a bet. At the welcome in the song, he points to the crowd with a timely flourish. Then he drops low and takes a wide stance, knees far apart. Hips roll deeply counter clockwise for the next nine seconds, his arms, lifeless, behind his body. Being taken to the candy shop, Everett hops to his bare feet, knees bent, hair bobbing. Slowly his right-hand starts at his chest, between muscular pectorals, and smooths down hairless, pasty skin, fingers together with his head down, watching. Finger tips, then knuckles tuck under the waistband of his pants and at the woah, his head tilts back, mouth shaped like an O, eyes closed, a look of ecstasy on his face. This is the chorus.

The next verse, Everett turns, showing ass to the crowd. Once again, he drops down low and turns his hips to a rhythm all his own. Four rotations, then turning around again with extended right arm, rubbing thumb against the index and middle fingers, hip grinding still, his belt has been undone, dangles from the belt loops. He brings his left hand in grabs at his crotch, mouthing the 'Woah!' in time.

The ape's hands go down to pants. He lifts his head, once more scowling, unimpressed expression. While he shimmies his hips, his hands hold the hem of his pants, the movement of his hips making the pants dip below the beltline, teasing that he's not wearing anything underneath. The lights, nerves, whatever it is, a light sheen begins to reflect lights on Everett's chest and presumably back if he removed his vest.
Turning around, Everett continues to shimmy his hips, pulling the pants down a little further. Cleft appears and disappears with the movements. He demonstrates how high the temperature is rising, turning around again, by putting a paw at his neck and squeezing like he has a sore neck. And bulging his bicep while he does so; first, his right side and then his left, hiding his hand under the drape of his hair.

The next verse, Everett falls to the side, face forward like he's tripped. Legs wide, he catches himself with his hands: impromptu push-ups. Six, each rolling forward more grinding against a partner that isn't there when performing an exercise. Suddenly, he turns over, poised like he's ready to crab walk, head back so his hair falls out of his face, the glower ever-present. His hips push up, mostly in time with the music, of the backbeats, twice popping a series of three thrusts.
Turning over again, Everett grinds again against that imaginary partner, rolling pelvis, hip, even chest to get deep mashing. His legs close, pushing himself back, he curls his legs under his big frame and stands, struts to turn around, left-hand swinging, right hand grabbing a handful of himself, leans back and shakes his right-hand several times.
The chorus falls in again, twice and Everett repeats the moves for it. When the next verse comes on, his big hands return down to his pants, his focus down to them. Hips move while the pants are pulled fractions of inches at a time, the beginnings of a black happy trail starting to peek from the hemline.

With pants still done but hanging low, he grabs air, shifts his hips forward to step twice in the right, and then again, twice to the left. Just between me and you. Everett points at himself and, ... into the crowd, the lights, they're so bright.

When his right hand comes down, he grabs the dangling belt, and pulls it smoothly through the belt loops, catching the end with his left hand. A twist of his torso, he whips the belt around his left thigh, grabbing the end again and pulls the strap back and forth just a few times high betwixt his thighs. The belt is removed from between his thighs, folded, and CRACK, snapped before he turns, shifts his weight to his left leg, turns his torso to the right and smacks himself on the right cheek with the belt before it's dropped to the stage.

Everett manages not to wince, or to keep it internal when he turns around. When the song mentions zipper, his hands open both buttons and pulls down the zipper of his pants but keeps the flaps closed. Then, quickly, he peels one side, flashing black. He flashes back the other side, more black underneath. While the song goes on about thongs, he stops playing games. A turn again and he bends down fast, the leather pants go with them proving his previous promise of nudity was him pulling down pants and form-fitting black boxer briefs as well. Kicking out of the left leg of his trousers, Everett turns around proving both he's a man of proportional dimensions and he's wearing little that leaves anything to the imagination.

The last two verses. Everett's right mitt goes inside his briefs, he looks like the touch he gave himself is exactly what he wanted. When his hand comes out, he pantomimes holding a partner's shoulder with his left hand, hip with the right. The grind that follows is nice and slow. Except to wiping his right forearm over his perspiration laden brow, his visual malfeasance ceases for the most part. A series of the chorus repeats, Everett repeating the number for them. When the music fades, Everett rhythmically flexes his pecs until the music has faded to hard to hear. He kicks off the last pant leg, crotches to pick up his pants and belt, using the former to cover himself, and tip-toe off the stage.

Everett mustn't know Lyric very well as Park takes the drive from him to handle the music (Lyric's off getting clothes on). Staring up at the giant as she syncs up the tune; he can play whatever he likes. She will watch the show, wide-eyed, but thankfully it stops before things get too dangerous. It seems only women take all their clothes off in this place.

Nicole hasn't left just yet when Everett takes the stage. She seems... mesmerized, though she isn't quite sure which part is the most fascinating; the dance itself or a man that looks like that... dancing to a song like that. When he tiptoes off the stage, drunken Nicole applauds for the man and holds out one of the bills she herself earned as a tip earlier."