"Alright, boys." she called to her bartenders. "1:15. Bottle up the hard stuff, put up the glasses." She moved away from the big island bar and made her way through the crowd. As she walked, she slipped a C.B. from her belt and called to her bouncers who were spread through out the club "Start to weed out the D.D.s and get them to the cabs." reffering to moving those too drunk to drive out ot the cabs lined up out front. She had an arrangement with the cab companies that, for a small fee, they gave safe, discounted rides home for her patrons. Jessie's theory was that she was always paid back by the business that survived to return. Reaching the switch board, she unlocked the panle, threw a few switches, then closed it up again.
The ceiling lights turned from red and yellow to blue and yellow.
In response, the waitresses began to bust the empty tables, starting the closing procedures.
With her crew in order, jessie turned her attention to the stage to make sure the band had taken note of the light change. They had been told at the begining of the day to watch for it, that that was the signal to start to slow down the music. Her guests won't want to slow down their drinking, much less leave, if the music was still jumpin'.
Though she hadn't actually met the men (her P.R. man handled all the band stuff), she knew each from their profiles. She liked to be sure of what sort of element she was allowing in her club.
There, on the sax, was reno Nevada, Banzai's own personal P.R. man. His Latin black hair was striking against his sparkling, bright red shirt. He had an easy going smile that hinted that he could be a friend to just about anyone. But there was a hardness to his eyes, almost hidden, that warned that he could also be a deadly enemy to just about anyone who did him or his friends harm. His gentle artwork and his fast .45 automatic Colt mirrored the contrast of his own personality: gentle and viciouse.
Sitting at the piano was Dr Sidney Zwibel, aka New Jersey. Tall, dark, handsome (in a geeky sort of way), and shy. The boy was as smart as hell, but always seemed to be passing his genius off on someone else for the glory. Except for the big-ass, ten-gallon hat he sported. Apparently he had seen way too many silent westerns before joining up with the Cavaliers.
Watching over the stage from his spot beside the piano, was the big cowboy and right hand man to Buckaroo Banzai, only known as Rawhide. He was quiet and watchful, taking in every detail of every inch of every person who came any where near the stage without being obviouse about it. Tall, big, rugged, a student of life in general, he could easily fall into the big brother roll for any man on the stage, and a few that weren't. And somehow he pulled off the cowboy look where others failed.
And there, playing on rhythm guitar, was the sylin' Perfect Tommy. Now, his profile had given Jessie a moment to pause. He was scandalous, an ex-con (though most wouldn't have known that without her connections, and she wondered if his band mates knew), arrogant... an all around wild, out-of-control young man. Everything about him was in question, from his edducation to his hair color. 'Course, maybe that was what was so intriguing about him: a girl could fall for him and hate him all in the same glance.
And, of course, at center stage was Dr Buckaroo Banzai, strumming away on his guitar, whispering away a soft song (apparently he got the message). A slim man with an obviouse, yet hidden, strength, shiny black hair, a slight Asian pinch to his striking blue eyes: he could only be described as beautiful. Well, genius also popped to mind. Orphaned from Jap-Tex parents, both brilliant scientists in their own right, he was never satisfied unles he was testing the excepted laws of known science and finding new ones to play with. Puching sciences of all types, life in general, and luck ultimately to and beyond their limits was his way of life. And his Hong Kong Cavaliers followed him with a loyalty that could only come from the knowlage that, if anyone can do it, it was Buckaroo Banzai!
Seeing her approach, Rawhide abandoned his post to meet her at the corner of the stage. "Miss James." he greeted with a tip of his stetson.
The boss-lady nodded once. "Time to settle the boys down. In 30, shut it down."
Rawhide threw her a salute. "Will do." he answered, but then glanced over her head. "Might wanna take a look, ma'am." he suggested in that old west drawl of his.
Before Jessie could turn, her C.B. began to blare: "Knuckles, we have a problem!" "Two more on your right flank, Gage!" "Get those mirrors covered!" "Primary aggressor has a bottle."
"Crap. And everything was going so well." Jessie grumbled.
"Need a hand?" Rawhide offered.
"No. Stick to the script. Folks will take their cue from the band." Jessie turned and headed for the fight. "On my way, Gage. Move it out the side door, away from the bottles and mirrors!"
The fight was a simple foursome which, with the help of their boss-lady and her snapping baton, the bouncers had subdued and piled into seperate cabs, headed home.
By the time Jessie had made it back into her club it was nearly empty for the exception of a few straglers, and even they were slowly heading for the exits. Even the band was begening to pack up. Jessie paused to note that Banzai and Perfect Tommy were no where to be seen. The boss-lady clapped her hands. "Alrighty, folks, lets close up." Her crew threw her a "duh" expression which she smiled at. They knew what they were doing. She just said it to remind them that she was still the boss... or remind herself anyway. With a shake of her head, she reached over the bar, grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. "I'm checkin' the primiter. Connie, get everyone counted out and sent home." She recieved another "duh" for her efforts.
"Hold your hat, Knuckles." Gage, the tall, sleek head bouncer, called after her.
Jessie paused to protest, but Gage shook his head, warning her against it. "Your own rules: no one outside after hours without a buddy." He grinned. "And you don't make buddies fast enough to turn one away."
Jessie huffed under her breath, but waited for him none-the-less.
