Time to go clubbin' (Trogdor)

John had received an invitation from this club situated in New Yorks heart, a large 3 story club and he was to DJ for 3 consecutive hours for about 2000$ dollars, honest money he wanted, but he was going there for the woman, he knew he had a 100% chance of not leaving alone tonight. The day was still early and the weather was nice, perfect for setting up everything. All his music equipment was in the truck of his dodge charger, a brand new old car as they say, 1 handed driving like a boss he reached the bar no sooner than than two in the afternoon. Looking left and right to see if no super baddy would come around and try to harash him to join their band, he proceeded to taking out his stuff. Soon after he began, someone came out of the closed bar and started talking to him, telling John where he was suposed to set up and around what time, John on his side was very displeased, but the color of money convinced him to be their little puppet for a little longer.

Time flew by and by the time the club was opened to the public John had already a couple beer in and was flirting with a woman. By the time it was his turn to shine he wasn't sober. The music started nice and smooth, until the crash came and heavy techno filled the pub, creating waves of dancing people, the sound was perfect, everything was perfect, no distortion, yet it felt like it was unatural something was making this music even louder than it should and people loved it!

The man known as Manfred Gentle loathed these modern clubs. all noise and no substance, just like the so-called police of this cess-pool of a city. Still, he had some things to see to. A man had asked him to get him a certain gem from a museum, and offered him quite the sum of money for doing so, and being a rather greedy individual, lacking in moral fibre, Manfred had of course agreed to steal this certain gem, in part for the money, but mostly for the thrill of swishing about the place in the guise of 'The Blueblooded Gentleman Thief'. The crime had gone smoothly, even though he had been forced to fight through some manner of lizard-creature that was also robbing the museum for some reason as well as a bunch of freaky monsters. Still, this was new york, these things happened around here these days, and even though Gentleman loved to act all snarky and snooty and disparage over how all the superpowered antics had reduced the town from a shining gem of humanity to a lawless sort of no-mans land, he'd have it no other way.

The bouncer gave the newcommer a rather dirty look, most likely because of the fact that Manfred was wearing his "gentleman"-outfit to the club to avoid showing them his true identity, and the top-hat, monocle and billowing, very theatrical cape was not exactly the dress-code for a place such as this. However, he was let in despite this fact, probably because the club-owner had made sure that he was on the list. Gentleman smiled to himself, as he walked past. His employer had been deathly afraid of him when they first met, mainly because of the things he had heard about "the gentleman". The fact that he could destroy a tank with a cheeseburger wrapper and defeat swat-teams armed only with an umbrella. Manfred did not actually know if he could actually do these things, but he was fairly confident that he would have a fair shot if he ever decided to try, provided that the surroundings were somewhat to his advantage.

He quickly saw the man. An ostentatiously dressed african-american gentleman with so much gold, he could easily be mistaken for the spokesperson of Fort Knox. The grin on his face revealed that his teeth were just as golden as his jewelry. He was a big man, approaching 6'6, and his broad shoulders and large hands suggested that he was quite powerfull as well, and even thoug hbodyguards flanked him at either side, Gentleman did not feel all that nervous.

"Good evening good sir, quite the establishment you have here, eh?" He said before sitting down across the small table from his employer. "I have managed to procure the item you where after, although it was quite a bit more difficult than I had estimated on account of the giant lizardman and the monstrous critters and whatnot." he continued, his rich theatrical voice having almost a shakespearian quality to it

The mana across to him nodded, smiled greedily, his golden teeth glinting in the strobe-lights of the cloughb. "Do you have it with you?" he asked greedily, the slight hint of a jamaican accent, and at that moment Manfred wished that he had not brought it. If this was a double-cross he had horrible cards up his sleeves, although maybe he could still bluff his way out.

John played his music and he wouldn't stop for a while, now and then putting a longer beat so he could have the time to drink, the more the night went on the more he was drunk and the less he was hiding his powers using them to make the music better, or the bass stronger at peak times, people were just so much in the groove and the club was making record money. Thing's were going well, almost too well. So he wanted to try something arrogance kicking up a bit trying to be remembered so he took up his mic, muffled his music a little with his instruments and tried to set the crowd on fire!

''ALRIGHT FOLKS ITS TIME TO SHOW YOU WHY I'M CALLED DJ SHOCKWAVE!!''

At that point John was most likely drunk, and that's from there on that the real music stopped a heavy silence dropped on the club for the final quarter of the night. He took his headset and started some music...that he reproduced with his super power in the whole club.

Spoiler:

It was loud, very loud but the crowd was loving it, John was dancing in front of his instruments sending shockwaves of sound through the crowd at a level where no harm could be done. The crowd was on fire and Shockwave along with them, he was enjoying himself too much.

John threw his arms in front of him or over his head everytime bass could be heard, he was an amazing dancer, his move coordinated with the music he was in the groove. Although John seemed oblivious he looked
at a man who really didn't fit in, he was wearing a suit in a club and walked straight to his employer, they seemed to be talking very serious business so John took very little attention to their conversation and kept going, still he had his eyes pointed towards them, he didn't want his employer dying to some outsider weirdo.

The night went on and the music fell down to non superhuman level once again and the club was preparing to shut down, John had been playing preset music from his collection and he walked to the club owner to collect his due money.

Gentlemans monocled eye darted towards the stranger approaching him, and his left hand ended up in his pocket, just in case this was some sort of elaborate ruse to get the drop on him. Oh, how he regretted that he had decided to actually work with this ruffian. The music here was deplorable, as were the people. Half of the girls looked like the town mattress, and judging from their outfits they had payed quite extensively to look as cheap as they did. He sighed to himself in an overtly theatrical manner. The gentleman gave him a brief look, one eyebrow slightly raised in a rather quizzical expression. This combined with the haughty look on his face had probably been fashionable somewhere in the late eighties. . . The eighteenhundredeighties that was.

"Can I help you good sir?" The gentleman said, his intonation and well-modulated voice bringing seeming more at home on a classical theatre stage, rather than in a place such as this. He made no effort to hide the general distaste for the man's attire and profession, if you could call it that. His musical 'performance' had basically been causing that ungodly ruckus that had been going on at the scene. Gentleman could probably get a better job done using a chainsaw and drink-mixer.

"Great gig tonight, John, I'll just finnish up here, and I'll deal with you in a few. Just wait over at the bar for a few minutes, alright?" The club-owner said with a great smile, his golden teeth shining brightly as they reflected the lights from the dance-floor that were still going strong, despite the fact that the guests were starting to mosey on out of there.

The smile dissapeared as quickly as the paycheck of an alcoholic as he turned back to the gentleman. "I ain't payin' you extra if that's what you're tryin' to con me into, you fancy-ass weirdo." He said, causing the gentleman to once again raise his eyebrow in an indgnant manner.

"Please refrain from the namecalling my good man, or I shall take my buisness elsewhere. You failed to mention that there would be a lizardman and all manner of monstrosities in the museum. One thinks that one is entitled a rather substansial compensation due to the unfortunate circumstances." the gentleman said, his pleasant, melodical voice echoing a little louder than he had intended. His face was starting to look slightly annoyed as he spoke. He wanted to get this over with before all the guests had left the building, since he did not trust the club-owner one bit. After all, making a dissapear from an empty club would be no match for his golden-toothed employer. But gentleman had no intention of becomming a dead body.