makingastatement: (♠ YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT)
Al Capone ([personal profile] makingastatement) wrote in [community profile] tampered2013-07-04 11:00 am

[OPEN LOG] A LITTLE PARTY NEVER KILLED NOBODY

When; July 4th after this
Rating; Links are NSFW due to language and sexy hooker flashmobs. Other than language, situations shouldn't get above PG-13.
Characters; It's a party-- come one, come all!
Summary; Surprise birthday party for Meyer Lansky. Everyone is welcome!
Log;

Lucky's casino is busy as usual on Thursday, but those inside will notice that the stage normally reserved for entertainment is shrouded in a large curtain. The owner is seated, prepared to listen to the audition of a buxom blond who seems shy and has no real command over the stage. After a deep breath, she begins to sing in a voice barely above a whisper:

"Happy birthday to you~"

Before she can really get into the meat of the song, the curtain rises to reveal an unusual spectacle. Women of all sizes and shapes dressed comfortably in next to nothing. Those inside the casino can see them make a musical entrance. They seem to dote especially on the owner, who appears to be hoisted in his seat by two beefy men in shiny speedos. They carry him closer to what appears to be a cake.

It's not.

The exterior slips away revealing a mounted pole and another woman who has no problem steadying her stilettos on the arms of the chair the owner is being held captive in from time to time.

Looks like it's SOMEONE'S BIRTHDAY

All varieties of business continue as usual after the reveal. The women and men will flirt with anyone who has the means to earn their attention. There's even a new racehorse to the circuit being promoted out back! Come evening, patriotic Americans launch fireworks into the night sky. So come! There's good company, gambling, drinks and dancing-- eat, drink and be merry in honor of the holiday and Meyer Lansky's birthday!
hischair: (doot doo doo.)

[personal profile] hischair 2013-07-05 12:39 am (UTC)(link)
Nodding by way of agreement to do just that and oblige him, he taps his empty glass.

"Don't think I've forgotten that I owe you a drink."

Flashing a smile, he slides to his feet and heads out without gawking at the women like a younger Jim Kirk would have done. The only company he gravitates toward now feels like home, and that's more than enough.