"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."