"Gimme the cash, bitch!"

Rita looks up from behind the bar.

"Or what? she asks calmly.

"Or I cap your black ass, cunt!" he menaces, waving the gun in his hoodie pocket.

Rita flicks a switch and the jukebox goes silent.

"Ladies? This roach wants my money. What do you think?" she calls out, looking past him.

His eyes jack wide open hearing half a dozen automatics being chambered behind him.

A two-way crackles. "Sargent? Chief Davis here. Roll a patrol car over to Dukes."

"No, no hurry. Give it thirty minutes. Naked man will be hogtied out in front."