The evening was young and Joe was out of work and ready for some fun. He headed straight home this time and took a shower to clean up. He shaved up his sideburns to be nice n crisp. "Grease stains are hard to get out she said. Greasy in death as I am in life? I'll show her." He shook the razor under the water and placed it on the counter. He towel-dried his face and headed into his room.

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Queenie had already pulled his clothes a bit away from where he had set them out. Mostly just his undershirt and his western one. She was sitting over them like a nest, fluffed up and with some darling squinty eyes. She tilted her head toward him when he took off his towel. And hung it on one of the bed frame's posts.

"Little Queenie, what are you doing there on my clothes? I'm going out tonight. I'd love to bring you but the cafe doesn't let me." He looked "Hey, what did you do with my underwear?" He picked her up and put her on his shoulder as he began to turn over everything on his bed. He found his underwear stuffed under a pillow. "Ya gotta stop." He shook them out and slipped the plain white boxer briefs on. He snapped the waist band against his sides and picked up his pair of socks. He sat on the bed, sliding the socks onto his feet as Queenie began to climb down his arm to try and bite at the edges of the socks. "Stay outta trouble, baby!" He lead her onto the bed and used the same hand to pick up his pants.

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Queenie climbed down and then turned to look at him as he pulled on his white jeans, "No! No! No!" she spread out her wings and waddled toward him with her beak held open. "Aaaaa!"

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He pulled on a white undershit and his favorite dark blue western shirt which was embroidered with stars and the phases of the moon. He had always been fascinated by the moon. To him, the moon was a woman and she watched over him when he got out of work and made sure he made it home safely. As he buttoned the shirt up he felt Queenie tugging at one of his sleeves. "I know you don't want me going out but...I need to. I know you understand the feeling don't you? That's why I let you roam around the whole house." He smiled, "Besides its not like I can let you go, you always come back." He ruffled her cheek feathers and went to his closet to put on his dark blue cowboy boots that had silver embroidered stars.

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"I'll leave the tv on for you and put some food And your toys on the coffee table." He walked to the bathroom to style his hair up into a slick pompadour. After looking at his left side and his right side he smiled at himself with a nod and walked back out. He picked up Queenie and kissed the top of her head and her back.

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He placed her on the couch and began to bring out her toys, putting the heavier ones on the floor and the lighter ones up on the coffee table. There were precautions he took to keep Queenie from being hurt and one of them was to place toys that might hurt her if they were dropped or if they fell and that was to out on the lowest surface possible, the floor. He went to get a spray of millet from the cupboards and some food for her from the fridge. He scattered them over the coffee table and under it, After a final look over, Joe slid his favorite leather jacket on picked up his guitar to place it in its hard case. He stepped out of his home and headed toward his car after making sure the place was locked. "Be good Queenie. I leave the house in your little claws and cute beak." He said to himself as he got into and drove off in his car. "I wish I could bring you to work more often for us to be together but I'm afraid of what all those strong smells would do to your little lungs."

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When he entered the Nightingale cafe, he immediately noticed the lighting was quite dark and moody. There was a little faux candle set up in the middle of each of the tables. In case someone needed it? He didn't think it was that dark but whatever. It looked nice. He found himself a seat and moved his guitar out of the way as he sat down. Currently, there was someone on the stage reading some poetry and while Joe was somewhat of a poet himself, he was never very entertained by just words. He found it boring and quite a drone. He made an attempt to not yawn.

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The poet stood from the stool and took a bow. People in the cafe clapped respectfully. Joe mimicked the claps and waited to see if anyone else was going to take the stage. However it seemed that no one was going to. No one besides him. He stepped onto the small stage in the corner of the nightingale lounge which was mostly just a change in elevation of the  cafe's floor. Joe never quite deciphered what kind of building this was before or if it had been three buildings in a row that had merged into one. Either way there was already a drummer playing solos on the drum set after that quiet little rhythm he had played as a backdrop for the poet before. Joe plugged his guitar up to the amp, strumming a few times to get the tuning right. He tapped his heel on the wooden floor to the rhythm of the beat the wanted. Something easy to clap for the packed lounge.

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The drummer found a beat to match what this guitaist wanted. Thump-tss thump-tss thump-tss thump-tss.

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Joe began to strum the guitar, flaming licks asking a question only to answer it a few beats later himself. He nodded his head slightly and tapped his foot to the beat, a visual for onlookers to know when to clap. He quietly cleared his throat and then began, 

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"I make the dance look cookin, make the hot girls look in and I couldn't tell ya how." He shrugged while he strummed the guitar's strings and pointed to the people sitting at the cafe's many tables with his guitar's headstock. "Everbody get up, raise your hands, theres a party and its starting right now!"

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He tilted his head back, chin up and closed his eyes as he belted out his lyrics without the need of a microphone, "They call me the king of moonlight, the king of dreams. They call me king of hearts, thats why hear they scream~"

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He began to move his feet dancing and tapping his toes and heels with a smooth and uncanny glide across the stage. "The way I dance yea. The way I move my feet. That's why the girls call me The King."

 

He winked with a nod to the audience and turned around. He hopped over the amp cable connected to his guitar and held his right hand up to his ear as a cue for the girls to scream. He was glad to hear a few of them play along.

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'He's the king!' A handful in the crowd shouted, the tone high just how Joe wanted it.

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Joe strutted across the stage, the silver embroidered stars on his midnight blue cowboy boots caught the light. He loved to match his shirt with his boots and it meant he ended up with a variety of different boots and pointed italian shoes in different colors and detailings. People were clapping and stomping their feet to the beat of the song.

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"See the way I'm walkin' makes them girls start talking. Makes the brothers asking why? He can make the ladies lose their minds," He tapped his temple with this index and middle fingers, "never needs a second try!" 

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He raised his voice, "And so they cry!" He howled louder, "And so they cryyy!!"

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"They call me the king of moonlight, the king of dreams. They call me king of hearts, thats why you hear them scream~!" Joe tapped his boots. He was in it to make a show, dancing across the stage to bring energy into the cafe. "The way I dance yea. The way I move my feet. That's why the girls call me The King."

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"The kiiiiing!" The crowd shouted.

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"That's why they screeeaaam!" Joe howled into the microphone.

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"He's the king! He's the king!" Some started to chant.

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"And they all me-!" He started and while the chorus started up again he raised the pitch of his voice to belt out a long and and drawn out "Kiiiiiiiiiiing~!" Joe took a breather after that drawn out note. He couldn't believe he had hit it!

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The crowd was at full roar, "-the king of moonlight, the king of dreams! They call him king of hearts, thats why they scream!" The crowd still continued with the chorus. The stomped their feet and clapped their hands to the thumping beat of the drums, "The way he dances yea. The way he moves his feet! Thats why they call him The King!"

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"And that's why the girls call me The King!" Joe raised up both his arms, the crowd clapped and he soaked in the praise. He loved it. He craved it. It felt so damn good.