“Hello, My name is Doct–Doc Fedora, Of Fedora And the The Fedorettes. I saw your sign outside, you're looking for a floor show?”
“Yep. Especially a New Band, we're looking for a new sound.”
“Then Sir, Have I got a new sound for you!”
“What is it?”
“The Pop sensation that's swinging the nation, Jazz, Sir, Jazz!”
-=-
 |
| -=fig 642: The Onyx Alley=- |
The Next thing Dr. Smith knew he was lying in an alley, the back of his head hurt {As if he had been thrown out of the door, opposite. Which he had.} and a voice was yelling, “AND DON’T COME BACK OR I'LL HAVE THE LAW ON YOU!”
-=-
“There's a definite stigma against Jazz in this city, James.”
“There is at that, Zachary.” They were sitting outside a café along the river, nursing restorative drinks.
Dr. Smith's white Jazz Jacket was covered in garbage, that had been his fourth forceful encounter with an alleyway today.
Capt. Brown didn't look much better, it was only because of his huge size that he had escaped the many alleys of Legopolis.
“You know,” He said, “This all go much smoother if you let me tell them I'm the mayor.”
“And what? We get let in wherever we want because they're all afraid of you? Like always? No. We do this right. Unfortunately the Onyx club was the last club in town without a floor show.”
“So what do we do?”
Dr. Smith took a long slurp of his drink, “We use the music room.” He said.
“But you don't want people trudging through your house…Do you?”
“They wouldn't have to. Find me a door and some white paint. And I'll meet you there in an hour.”
“You have a future in lettering, Zachary.” Capt. Brown said.
“Thanks, Give me five…ten minutes to hook this up to The House's Door Network. As a matter of interest, where does this door go now? It says ‘Authorised Personel Only’.”
“There's a very small room and a very deep, very sharp pit on the other side of that door.” Capt. Brown said, smugly. “ I had a bunch of these installed a couple of years ago, to mess with people who are far too nosy for their own good.”
“It's almost time for this evening's first performance, Sir.”
“Thanks Jeev–Reggie Bones. What do these people eat?”
“Mainly coffee, Sir. But the café is closed during performances, due to the fact that the barista is also the Piano player. Namely, Me. Sir.”
Dr. Smith, being the band leader, stood up to the mic to introduce the performance.
He made a snap decision, as long as these people are here, why not merchandise to them? “Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm Doc Fedora, and tonight's performance is brought to you by S&B¹, and their new product, TV! It's radio, but with pictures. And now…Fedora, And the Fedorettes!”
There was no applause, but instead a very similar noise, caused by dozens of pairs of fingers, snapping in time.
It was unsettling, to say the least, there had been no words exchanged betwixt the beatniks, was this normal? Was it positive, or more akin to booing? Reggie Bones, being a robot, had no nerves to unsettle, so he led everyone in with a piano solo, A solo had not been in the notes this afternoon when Dr. Smith had composed the song, but no one else was playing, so a solo it became.
Jimmy-Brown-Eyes had slid down to where Dr. Smith was hiding.
“Illegally, Zachary!” He whispered.
“I tried, James, I did! The Better Business Bureau doesn't give out licenses to Jazz clubs, okay? No reason at all. They just don't. You see that painting?”
Capt. Brown was still kind of upset that he had participated in illegal activities, but he knew that was an argument for later. “Yeah.” He said. “Gabriella Giovedì, Tenor. So?”
“It's a secret passageway out of here.” Dr. Smith whispered, “I knew the heat'd be onto us at some point, just didn't think It'd be this soon.”
“Zachary…Have you been watching Film Noir?”
“Maybe.”
“Why Don't I just tell them I'm the mayor? This could all be cleared up in…a minute. Two, tops.”
“James” Dr. Smith whined “I Built a Secret Passageway.”
“Gimme a push, James.”
Capt. Brown gave Dr. Smith a push, Dr. Smith slid down the secret passageway, “James, come on.” Dr. Smith's voice said.
“I'm right behind you, Zachary. Can you hear me?” No answer. He was probably behind some multi-dimensional barrier, {Capt. Brown thought} that's the sort of thing Dr. Smith would do.
Capt. Brown stood up, and adopted his most commanding scowl.
“You there! ST–”
“DON'T YOU ‘YOU THERE’ ME SARGEANT DONALD SCHMIDT. MY NAME IS CAPT. JAMES BROWN. MY TITLE IS MAYOR² OF THIS CITY.”
“Sir!” Saluted the hapless Sgt. Donald Schmidt “We Suspect this establishment is operating illegally and we have a warrant to–”
“A WARRANT!” Boomed Capt. Brown, “ILLEGALLY! I AM THE MAYOR! WOULD I PARTICIPATE IF IT WERE ILLEGAL?”
“Well, I–”
“ARE YOU CALLING ME A CRIMINAL SGT. DONALD SHMIDT? ARE YOU?”
“Well, no–”
“THEN GET OUT OF MY FRIEND'S PLACE OF BUSINESS AND PRAY TO YOUR GODS THAT I DON'T REPORT YOU TO YOUR SUPERIORS ³!”
The handful of policemen who hadn't run off when they recognized Capt. Brown now left, in a hurry, as any sane person would. Capt. Brown had quite a voice, it could rattle windows and shatter vases.
He now turned to the mass of patrons, “I woud suggest that you all go home. Jeeves.” He gave a little nod. Jeeves nodded back. This frightened the patrons. It seemed to be a signal of some sort. “Oh, and folks…” they all stopped, he wasn't yelling now, but they weren't going to risk it. “…Be sure to settle your debts before you leave, we don't run tabs.”
He then took a running jump into the secret passageway, and disappeared.
They made nearly three hundred dollars that night.
¹S&B: Smith and Brown, the name Dr. Smith's inventions are sold under.
²A title with a meaning closer to ‘Tyrant’ than anything, but everybody likes him.
³ Capt. Brown is the Sergeant's ultimate superior. Tyrant, see.
“There is at that, Zachary.” They were sitting outside a café along the river, nursing restorative drinks.
Dr. Smith's white Jazz Jacket was covered in garbage, that had been his fourth forceful encounter with an alleyway today.
Capt. Brown didn't look much better, it was only because of his huge size that he had escaped the many alleys of Legopolis.
“You know,” He said, “This all go much smoother if you let me tell them I'm the mayor.”
“And what? We get let in wherever we want because they're all afraid of you? Like always? No. We do this right. Unfortunately the Onyx club was the last club in town without a floor show.”
“So what do we do?”
Dr. Smith took a long slurp of his drink, “We use the music room.” He said.
“But you don't want people trudging through your house…Do you?”
“They wouldn't have to. Find me a door and some white paint. And I'll meet you there in an hour.”
 |
| -=fig. 643: the all-night jazz club=- |
“Thanks, Give me five…ten minutes to hook this up to The House's Door Network. As a matter of interest, where does this door go now? It says ‘Authorised Personel Only’.”
“There's a very small room and a very deep, very sharp pit on the other side of that door.” Capt. Brown said, smugly. “ I had a bunch of these installed a couple of years ago, to mess with people who are far too nosy for their own good.”
-=-
After the posters had been amended to point people to the address, the Beatniks flooded in. They were generally all young-ish, and wearing black turtlenecks and berets.“It's almost time for this evening's first performance, Sir.”
“Thanks Jeev–Reggie Bones. What do these people eat?”
“Mainly coffee, Sir. But the café is closed during performances, due to the fact that the barista is also the Piano player. Namely, Me. Sir.”
Dr. Smith, being the band leader, stood up to the mic to introduce the performance.
He made a snap decision, as long as these people are here, why not merchandise to them? “Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm Doc Fedora, and tonight's performance is brought to you by S&B¹, and their new product, TV! It's radio, but with pictures. And now…Fedora, And the Fedorettes!”
There was no applause, but instead a very similar noise, caused by dozens of pairs of fingers, snapping in time.
It was unsettling, to say the least, there had been no words exchanged betwixt the beatniks, was this normal? Was it positive, or more akin to booing? Reggie Bones, being a robot, had no nerves to unsettle, so he led everyone in with a piano solo, A solo had not been in the notes this afternoon when Dr. Smith had composed the song, but no one else was playing, so a solo it became.
 |
| -=fig. 644: onyx rag=- |
After a second he was joined By Jimmy-Brown-Eyes on drums, then Johnny Davis, Satchmo Black, Dr. Smith and finally Bobby Davis on guitar. There was no guitar part in this song, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. Honeylips sang the first verse so well the room grew quiet, every ear was hers.
It wasn't a sad song, But she gave it feeling anyway.
That was when the doors burst open, and policemen started yelling. “THIS BUSINESS IS OPERATING ILLEGALLY!
YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST, BUT ESPECIALLY DOCTOR ZACHARY SMITH!
DOCTOR SMITH, STEP FORWARD!”
The policemen had come in the far doors, so Dr. Smith had about five seconds.
He dove off the stage, Toward the lounge area.
“JAMES!” He yelled,
“IlLEGALLY, ZACHARY?”
They had to yell, because of the racket. Reggie Bones/Jeeves was still playing his part of the song, {and it was an impressive part} but on top of that the beatniks were panicking. The majority of them had other, minor, marks on their records, and being found in an illegal club was the last thing they needed.Jimmy-Brown-Eyes had slid down to where Dr. Smith was hiding.
“Illegally, Zachary!” He whispered.
“I tried, James, I did! The Better Business Bureau doesn't give out licenses to Jazz clubs, okay? No reason at all. They just don't. You see that painting?”
Capt. Brown was still kind of upset that he had participated in illegal activities, but he knew that was an argument for later. “Yeah.” He said. “Gabriella Giovedì, Tenor. So?”
“It's a secret passageway out of here.” Dr. Smith whispered, “I knew the heat'd be onto us at some point, just didn't think It'd be this soon.”
“Zachary…Have you been watching Film Noir?”
“Maybe.”
“Why Don't I just tell them I'm the mayor? This could all be cleared up in…a minute. Two, tops.”
“James” Dr. Smith whined “I Built a Secret Passageway.”
-=-
 |
| -=fig. 645: the fat lady=- |
Capt. Brown gave Dr. Smith a push, Dr. Smith slid down the secret passageway, “James, come on.” Dr. Smith's voice said.
“I'm right behind you, Zachary. Can you hear me?” No answer. He was probably behind some multi-dimensional barrier, {Capt. Brown thought} that's the sort of thing Dr. Smith would do.
Capt. Brown stood up, and adopted his most commanding scowl.
 |
| -=fig. 646: authority=- |
“DON'T YOU ‘YOU THERE’ ME SARGEANT DONALD SCHMIDT. MY NAME IS CAPT. JAMES BROWN. MY TITLE IS MAYOR² OF THIS CITY.”
“Sir!” Saluted the hapless Sgt. Donald Schmidt “We Suspect this establishment is operating illegally and we have a warrant to–”
“A WARRANT!” Boomed Capt. Brown, “ILLEGALLY! I AM THE MAYOR! WOULD I PARTICIPATE IF IT WERE ILLEGAL?”
“Well, I–”
“ARE YOU CALLING ME A CRIMINAL SGT. DONALD SHMIDT? ARE YOU?”
“Well, no–”
“THEN GET OUT OF MY FRIEND'S PLACE OF BUSINESS AND PRAY TO YOUR GODS THAT I DON'T REPORT YOU TO YOUR SUPERIORS ³!”
The handful of policemen who hadn't run off when they recognized Capt. Brown now left, in a hurry, as any sane person would. Capt. Brown had quite a voice, it could rattle windows and shatter vases.
He now turned to the mass of patrons, “I woud suggest that you all go home. Jeeves.” He gave a little nod. Jeeves nodded back. This frightened the patrons. It seemed to be a signal of some sort. “Oh, and folks…” they all stopped, he wasn't yelling now, but they weren't going to risk it. “…Be sure to settle your debts before you leave, we don't run tabs.”
He then took a running jump into the secret passageway, and disappeared.
They made nearly three hundred dollars that night.
¹S&B: Smith and Brown, the name Dr. Smith's inventions are sold under.
²A title with a meaning closer to ‘Tyrant’ than anything, but everybody likes him.
³ Capt. Brown is the Sergeant's ultimate superior. Tyrant, see.
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And have a nice rest–of–your–day you guys.
—Jacob