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ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴋᴇʏ ʙᴀʀ
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———ᴀ ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋ ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴛᴀʟ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ɢʟᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ɢᴜᴇꜱᴛ: "ʏᴇᴀʜ?"
"Ricko Benny Giordano."
The metal door unlocks itself, as the person from the other end, spoke: "Come on in."
The sound of the band playing Jazz was smooth and intoxicating, each note weaving a tapestry of emotion that wrapped around the listeners like a warm embrace. The trumpets blared with a boldness that commanded attention, while the saxophones sang sweetly, their melodies dancing like whispers in the night. 
Doubling the bass laid a steady foundation, its deep resonance pulsating through the room, inviting everyone to sway along. Drums kept the heartbeat alive, syncopating rhythms that made feet tap and shoulders sway. 
Every band member seemed to feed off each other's energy, creating an atmosphere electric with creativity and spontaneity. It was more than just music; it was a conversation, a celebration, a moment in time when the world outside melted away, leaving only the magic of jazz in its place.
"Welcome, friends!" An announcer from the stage starts, "And a warm welcome to the Buddy Righteous Orchestra." The audience applauded as the band continued speaking into the microphone: "And without any further ado please welcome the lovely Lula Lillywhite."
Another round of applause comes from the crowd as a woman with white hair and tan skin in a beautiful white & golden toga dress comes in to sing while the rest are chatting, talking to one another, gambling, drinking, and dancing on the dance floor. 
Four robot gangsters slowly walk in, unaware that a Samurai in a white robe has followed them. They (robots) sit down near the bar, where the bartender is cleaning his cups. He notices their presence and carefully motions them with his eyes to the right twice. As a way to signal them to murder the other customers on the other side.
Sure enough, the Samurai took notice of the weapons and immediately unsheathed his sword by going straight for the kill and a couple of slicing, flames, and bullets; It ended with the Samurai being stopped at gunpoint by three black men and a white man.
"Okay, Mac, that's enough." Says one fat guy, pointing a gun like the rest, "Nice and slow."
The Samurai slowly stands up from his fighting pose while doing as told.
Another guy pokes at him: "That's right, put the butter knife away."
"Come on. Move it before we throw you out." The Samurai, to say the least, wasn't pleased but complied since he didn't want to harm anyone after killing the robots and held his hands in surrender in silence. 
But then, something happened.
"Wait. Let him stay." A short man in a black tailored suit while wearing a brown fur coat over it, held a cigar over his mouth and a hat to make him be recognized as a gangster; Of course, the Samurai did not know that. Yet: "It's okay. Let him go, see?"