All lyrics written by author
The Samurai's Samba.
That was the name emblazoned in neon lights directly overtop the entrance to the underground club which was shaped to look as if one was entering the mouth of a demon. Underneath the name was a badly drawn picture of Samurai Jack. Spot-lights fired high into the sky, leading the nightlife of the city straight to the club for a night of revelry and sin. A line stretched around the block, and some big and mean-looking aliens manned the ropes, so no one dared try to sneak in.. Various ravers and club-goers strode past the Japanese man dressed in a white robe with a sword at his side, standing still and staring at the glowing sign draped above him.
Jack really couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him. A club dedicated to him. Who would be so callous?
Jack really didn't want to go inside. The music hurt his ears and his brain. Did people of this time really consider a deafening beat music? Unfortunately, his quest demanded that he enter. The object he was searching for, and the person who had it, were both inside this establishment.
Jack walked up to the ropes, where one of the large alien men held out an equally large hand.
"Hold on there buddy. You ain't getting in unless you're on the list."
"I would like to see the owner." Jack asked politely.
"Name?" The alien held a clipboard in one hand which was puny compared
"Sorry, you ain't on the list."
Jack didn't say a word, but in his mind he groaned loudly. He tried to reason with the alien.
"I am Samurai Jack. I have come a very long way, I am exhausted, and the object I require to end my quest is in this establishment. Now please stand aside and allow me through."
"I told you," the bouncer grunted, "you ain't on the list, you ain't getting in. Go wait in line like everyone else."
Jack pointed upwards.
"That is me in that picture. This club is obviously based on me."
The alien looked up at the picture, then down at his clipboard.
"I don't see the resemblance," the alien grunted.
From the entrance, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Bruno! It's okay, let him in, seee…"
Jack looked down to find the Boss and his group of pint-sized gangsters manning the door to the club.
"Oh, hello again," Jack said, not exactly thrilled to run into these mini-mobsters.
"Yeann, is that any way to greet some old friends?" the boss said, chewing on his cigar almost unconsciously. ""Check it out Jackie Boy. We've got the hottest nightclub in the entire world and it's all thanks to you."
He pointed to the glowing sign above them. Jack didn't bother to look up. It all made sense now. Though annoyed, Jack wasn't going to bring it up with them.
"I guess it's better than crime. Now if you'll excuse me…"
Jack tried to walk inside, but the gangsters quickly stepped in front of him to block him.
"Woah, hold on there Jackie. I don't know if you should go in there. This club ain't exactly your type."
Jack's temper was now being tested. Perhaps old habits died hard, but promises were sacred to Jack.
"There aren't…criminal activities going on, is there?" Jack glared at the gangsters. They knew his strength and knew not to mess with him.
The boss waved his hands wildly, his eyes wide open.
"No, no, of course not! What I'm trying to say is…umm…break it down for him, will you Needles?"
The smooth talking member of the gang didn't look straight at Jack, but rather rubbed the back of his neck while he spoke.
"Heh, heh…what the boss is trying to say is, um…this place is a bit more…classy… then you're used to."
Jack raised a single eyebrow. They always seemed to be playing an angle. Now, it was Mr. Pibbles who spoke up.
"Yeah yeah, what we're saying is there's a dress code. But don't worry, I got just the thing."
Inside the club, a latin techno beat played. While the DJ spun his discs, a live salsa band played brass along with the music.
"Oh baby, you're driving me crazy, don't you know I could be your lady, yeaheeeaahhh…"
The club had a massive dance floor, plenty of seats scattered around for people to sit and talk, and a bar in the back. Sitting alone at the bar was a Japanese woman of about twenty-five years with long black hair. She fiddled with her drink, paying no attention to the excitement around her.
A man's voice cut through the music.
She turned to find a Japanese man of the same age, his hair tied back in a loptop. He no longer wore his traditional gi though. Jack was now dressed in a blue striped suit, much like the one when he joined the gangsters, but he did not wear a tie or collared white shirt. Instead, he was shirtless with the top buttons of his vest unlatched, providing a hint of his chest underneath the suit.
She looked at him first with surprise, and then with delight.
"Wow. Look at you." She turned towards him. Jack almost doubled over when he saw what she was wearing. She had on a sleeveless black dress that was cut from the neck down to just below the navel. Her mid-section was almost completely bare, with the fabric just barely covering the extremities of her chest. The fabric seemed to hold on tenuously, as if it were gel and not fiber. The stone, the jewel that was shaped like a tear, hung in a necklace.
Jack was speechless for a moment, then recovered and went straight to business.
"Please hand over the stone." He held out his hand. She bent forward and curled her lips into a pout.
"Awww. And here I thought you came to see me. Sit down, stay awhile. Have a drink. Sake?" She patted the chair next to her. Jack did not take the invitation.
"No. I would like the stone."
The girl turned back towards the bar, picked up her drink and knocked it down. She didn't look at Jack, but instead stared at the empty glass in her hand.
"There is nothing that would interest you in sticking around?"
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Jack stood straight up.
Without a word, the girl placed her glass down on the table, left her chair, and headed out to the dance floor. Jack immediately pursued.
Jack suddenly found his pursuit broken when two massive aliens stepped in between him and the girl. One of them held out a hand.
"You missed your chance, punk. Get out."
The two of them refused to move. Jack started to bend his knees in preparation for a fight. The gangsters had confiscated his sword, so he would be at a disadvantage, and there were many innocents in this club who had nothing to do with any of this.
Suddenly, another familiar voice broke the tension.
"Oh ho ho, looks like Jack got the click-clack shot down!"
"Jack was like 'hey hey hey' and she was all like 'oh no you did-n't'!"
"That's what you get when you hit on the jillest girl in the world. She's so jill, she's ice cold!"
Jack found the source of the voices to be the three homeboys he met in the very first few moments he had entered the future. They stood against the wall, their heads bobbing to the music.
"You know her?" Jack asked them immediately.
"Kinda." Said the first homeboy.
"What do you mean?" Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Well, Jack-man, everyone knows who she is…"
"..but nobody knows who she really is…"
"…so everybody just calls her Jill, on account she's so Jill, she's like ice. She comes here and dances all the time. Nobody challenges her."
Jack looked through the crowd into the dance circle, where this Jill had taken center stage.
"Don't try it Jack-man. You gotta have the moves to go up against her. You're just gonna get served."
As if he didn't hear a word, Jack moved into the gyrating crowd, pushing through the aliens and ravers jamming to the music. Once again, as he reached the center, the large aliens blocked his path and pounded their fists in a threatening manner.
"A challenge!" shouted Jack. "For the stone!"
Jill held up her hand and the music stopped. "A high stakes challenge. Not to be taken lightly. One match, best fighter wins." She ran her finger along her neck. "I win, I take your life."
"And if I win?" asked Jack.
She licked her lips.
"Let's raise the pot. You win, you can have the stone…and me."