Presenting... Chicago Hey! This is the first part of my adaptation of Chicago- and I’ve never done anything like this before so please be kind with me! I watched Chicago again the other day and I realised what a great musical it is, so I decided to make a Sims version. I’m sorry if any of the lyrics are wrong, but hopefully the story should make up for it! It does have some swearing in it, so I’m warning you now! It’s just a little side project from my legacy, but it’d be great if you could leave me any constructive criticism. Thanks, and enjoy the show!
“5,6,7,8!” The house band began their song, loud Jazz filling the large stage of the club. The crowd were intoxicated by the atmosphere, buzzing with anticipation for the next act. However, most were caught up in the liquor fuelled euphoria of the Onyx club, content to relax in the bliss of drunken elation, Jazz and corruption that had made Chicago what it was.
“Hey! Has anyone seen the Kelly sisters?” The manager yelled backstage, desperately searching for his next group of performers. He frowned. It had not been a good day- and his headliners were missing. Great. He put his head in his hands. “You!” He bellowed, looking frustrated and angry. “You’re up in five!” The terrified dancer quickly walked away, leaving him alone and desperately thinking what he could say to an angry audience if they didn’t show.
“Keep the change, Charlie.” “Thanks.” The battered old taxi drove out of the dark alley way and out onto the street again. The dirty cobbled street was littered with beer bottles, and the sound of the woman’s high heels clacking could just be heard over the sound of the jazz music seeping out of the open back door of the Onyx Club.
She slipped through, past the preparing acts, and was about to go up the stairs to her dressing room when- “Velma, where‘ve you been?!” The manager shouted, red in the face with anger. She stopped, span round and flashed a dazzling smile at him. “And where the hell’s Veronica?!” He spluttered, incredulously.
“She’s not feeling herself tonight.” There was a dangerous look in her eye- a “probe no further” kind of expression. He hesitated for a moment, and she carried on up the stairs. “But they paid to see a sister act!” He bellowed up to her retreating back. “Don’t sweat it, I can do it alone!” Velma said angrily, slamming her dressing room door behind her violently.
She slammed down her suitcase on the stand beside her dressing table. The room was filled with glamorous outfits for the act, either hung delicately on a rail opposite where she stood or thrown on the floor, discarded. You couldn’t see the wood of the dressing table, it was covered in makeup, jewellery, hairbrushes, tissues and a large bunch of red flowers in a vase in the corner. She flung her coat over the chair, and opened the luggage carefully, as if it was a bomb ready to go off.
It clicked open, and her hands scrambled around desperately inside the case. There was a silk scarf covering a cigarette lighter and a silver gun. The woman stared at it for a while, then picked it up, feeling every detail of the weapon in her palms. Realisation hit her, and she saw the scarlet blood on both her hands and the gun. Panicking, Velma shoved it in the bottom draw of her wardrobe and kicked it shut.
She hurried to the sink, and fiercely scrubbed her hands with the boiling water to remove all traces of the crimson blood. “Shit!”
Hands still wet, she hurried behind the screen to get changed. She was up any moment now, and this was probably going to be her only chance to be on her own. She was finally ready. Running down the stairs, she sped around to the stage. “Move it! Move it!” The manager cried at her. “Hurry up!” “All right!”
The bandleader turned to face the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Onyx club is proud to present Chicago’s hottest new show in the world!” Nearly there, she just had to make it. “Two Jazz babes, moving as one!” Take a deep breath... “The Kelly sisters!”
She walked on to a quiet stage, into her usual spotlight. The band leader looked as confused as the rest of the crowd, muttering to one another nervously. The orchestra signalled to her that they should stop, but she shook her head. The spot light swung over to her, lighting up the impossibly beautiful Vaudevillian. “Come on babe, why don’t we paint the town? And all that Jazz! I’m gonna rouge my knees and pull my stockings down. And all that Jazz!”
“Start the car, I know a whoopee spot, Where the gin is cold and the piano’s hot! It’s just a noisy hall where there’s a nightly brawl! And All... That... Jazz...”
The crowd began to enjoy themselves, relaxing back into their chairs. The dancers pulled dramatic poses and chanted whilst Velma smoked her cigarette, taking a long drag. “Hotcha, Whoopee!” Velma finished in time to murmur “And All That Jazz”.
“Slick you hair, and wear your buckle shoes, And All That Jazz! I heard that Father Dip is gonna blow the Blues, And All That Jazz!”
Roxie watched in adoration at Velma Kelly’s routine. All her life she had longed for the stage, the bright lights, the music, the applause. One day, they’d all be queuing up to watch her. The greatest Vaudevillian that there would ever be. The name on everybody’s lips.
“Hold on hun, We’re gonna Bunny Hug, I bought some Aspirin Down at United Drug!”
“JAZZ!” Oh, if she were on the stage... She’d light up the sky... Fantasies like this one flitted in and out of Roxie’s head a lot. But one day she’d make it- she’d make sure of that.
“Let’s go babe!” The sound of Fred’s voice brought Roxie sharply back to Earth. “But I didn’t even meet your friend. That manager guy.”
Fred grinned, and made Roxie swoon. He had a boyish charm, a real personality. Something her husband could never offer her. “It’s all taken care of.” His dark brown eyes stared soulfully into her own.
“You told him about me?” “Yeah, kid, it’s all been arranged.” He pinched her ass as he spoke. Roxie giggled, and they both walked out of the gradually filling bar, arm in arm.
“Find a flask, We’re playing fast and loose... And All That Jazz!”
“Come on babe, we’re gonna brush the sky, I betcha Lucky Lindy never flew so high!”
“’Cause in the stratosphere, How could he lend an ear, To All, That, Jazz...?”
“Oh, you’re gonna see your sheba shimmy shake, And All That Jazz! Oh, she’s gonna shimmy till her garters break, And All That Jazz! Show her where to park her girdle, Oh, her mother’s blood will curdle.”
Roxie felt a stare burning into her back. “Oh! Hello Mrs CrumpleBottom!” Mrs CrumpleBottom frowned. “Mrs Hart.” Roxie giggled tipsily. “This is Fred... He’s my brother.” Fred burst out laughing as they ran up stairs together, ignoring Mrs CrumpleBottom’s vehement protestations.
“Say it again Fred...” Roxie gazed at every detail of Fred’s perfect face... He was such a man. He made her feel alive. Fred hurriedly got our of the bed, and went to the bathroom.
“Hey!” She laughed. “Where’s the fire, huh?” She got out too. “Amos aint home till midnight!” Roxie frowned. “Freddy?” He wasn’t listening. “Fred?”
“Hey, um... I don’t want you to feel like I’m nagging at you or anything but don’t you think it’s time I met your friend down at the Onyx?” Fred walked across the bedroom and Roxie smiled at him, totally infatuated.
“It’s been a month since you told him about me... And I know, ‘cause that was the night that Velma Kelly plugged her husband and her sister. You know they say she found ‘em in the kip together? Gosh, if I ever found Amos slipping it to someone else... I’d throw him a great big going away party!” There was the faint whoosh of Fred getting changed, and Roxie got up.
“It’s getting late.” said Fred, looking at his watch. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my act. Whenever I get a really good idea I write it in my diary. It occurred to me the other day that all the really knock out acts have something a little different going on.”
“Like a signature bit.” She continued, apparently deaf to Fred’s sighs. “And I thought that my thing could be aloof, you know? Give ‘em just enough to get ‘em good and hungry, but always leave ‘em wanting more!” She leaned in for a hug. “Hey, once I get a name for myself, maybe we could open a club of our own! You could run it and I could be the headliner!” She laughed girlishly in his ear, but Fred pushed her back.
“Hey, what’s the idea?” “Wake up kiddo, you aint never gonna have an act!” He spat. Roxie looked stunned. “Says who!” “Face it Roxie. You’re a two-bit talent with skinny legs, and I’m just a furniture salesman.”
Roxie smiled at him. “Yeah but you’ve got connections, you know! That guy down at the club-” “-There is no guy!” Fred looked angrier. “But... That night-”
“-It was the first night I set foot in that joint. I was collecting on a bet from the trombone player.” Roxie looked horrified. “So you never told anyone about me?” “Sugar, you were hot stuff, I would have said anything to get a piece of that.” He pinched her ass again on the last word. Roxie trembled. “And n-now?” “Look, we had some laughs, let’s just leave it at that.”
Roxie smiled but she was shaking like a leaf. “Fred,” Her voice was jovial. “You can’t do this to me-” “-Would you get off!”
He pushed her full force backwards, till she crashed painfullythe floor. She scrambled to her feet. “You touch me again, I’ll put your lights out!” Fred yelled at her, a look of disgust on his face. “Wait!”
“Your husband will be home soon. Wash yourself before hitting those sheets again.” “You’re a liar Fred!” Roxie was in tears, howling with anguish. “Yeah, yeah, so what?” “You lied to me!” She walked backwards towards the bureau, fumbling with the draws. “You lied to me!” “That’s life, sweetheart. That’s life.” “You son of a bitch!”
Fred turned and took his last look at Roxie. To his horror, he found it would be his last look at anything at all. She fired the gun three times into his chest. Fred jerked violently, convulsing wildly against the open door to the sitting room and collapsed to the floor. Silence fell once more, the only sound was the gramophone whirring on her bed side table.