Just outside 12th Street stands the Victoria building, a purpose built art decco restaurant and theatre. The Detroit Cabaret Club resides as a unique treasure within the heart of Wayne County’s buzzing capital. 

The Cabaret Club offers a sophisticated entertainment experience combining fine dining with world-class performances and impeccable service.

Set around distinctly British themes, the shows celebrate the rich heritage of British culture, past and present.

Featuring stars from London’s West-End, dazzling choreography and stunning costumes, The Cabaret Club offers an unforgettable evening to Detroit’s night life scene.

Exquisite seasonal set menus are crafted from the best ingredients, exploring flavours, and expressing the talent of our renowned chefs.

For our Halloween Day of the Dead fiesta our culinary artists prepared a bespoke menu that captures the dynamic flavours of the infamous Mexican celebration. During the summertime for Carnival our guests dined on exotic Caribbean delights including plantain, coconut, spiced pineapple and papaya, and for the Christmas season you can expect all of the delectable festive staples. 

Additionally, our devoted hospitality team are briefed with our changing menus and sophisticated wine list with full training days. It's important to DCSC that our employees remain knowledgeable and confident when providing exceptional customer service. Our waiting staff cater to the individual requirements of every customer to provide an elegant and fine-dining experience alongside outstanding entertainment.

Mickey took a look around, the tables were set, the menu finalized, and this evenings Caberet acts where doing a final rehearsal of tonights set of rhe best of Vaudeville. All he needed now were customers, hopefully they would come in their droves, otherwise he'd have to register with the Detroit Bar association in order to make a living.

There were four pricing levels for this seasons Christmas show, starting on the 14th November and running to 12th January, a 3 tier show starting at 6.30pm for the preshow and culminating with an in house production of Dicken's A Christmas Carol.

🎫 Silver: cocktail hour with pre-show entertainment from 6:30pm, reserved Ballroom seating for the show and access to the after party. $20 per ticket
🎫 Gold: cocktail hour with pre-show entertainment from 6:30pm, reserved Ballroom seating for the show, gourmet 3-course menu, half a bottle of house wine & mineral water during dinner, and access to the after party. $50 per ticket.
🎫 Diamond: cocktail hour with pre-show entertainment from 6:30pm, champagne reception with canapés and reserved seating, VIP tiered cabaret style seating for the show, VIP 4-course gourmet menu, a bottle of wine during dinner & a theatrical themed cocktail, the London Cabaret Club souvenir programme, and access to the after party. $75 per ticket.
🎫 Royal Diamond: cocktail hour with pre-show entertainment from 6:30pm, champagne reception with canapés and reserved seating, VIP tiered cabaret style seating for the show, VIP 4-course gourmet menu, a bottle of Moet Champagne during dinner & a theatrical themed cocktail, the London Cabaret Club souvenir programme, and access to the after party. $150 per ticket.

Christmas Menu

Cocktail hour Hors d’oeuvres

Oysters Rockefeller
Deviled eggs
Stuffed mushrooms
Crudites with dips
Salmon Mousse on sliced bread
Roasted nuts
Olives

1st Course

Waldorf Salad 

2nd Course (Diamond up)

Oyster Soup

With

Sqiuid Ink Bread

3rd Course

Roasted Goose

With

Pan roasted Honey glazed carrots and parsnips

Creamed mashed potatoes

Goose fat roasted potatoes 

Baby brussel sprouts sautéed in Bacon and roasted chestnuts

Wilted carrot greens

Pork, sage and pear stuffing

Apple sauce

Traditional gravy

4th Course

Traditional plumb pudding

With

XO Cognac Cream

After weeks of hustling and extorting shop owners, Phil decided to take a day off. He thought of visiting one bar after another, but the Detroit Caberet Supper Club got his attention. And it should be! The Club is popular among Mafiosi, politicians, and real stand-up guys. 

Phil brought his old pal, Butch, to share what little pleasures they can afford that day.

"We should try the Royal Diamond, don't you think?" Butch asked Phil.

"Definitely. And speaking of diamonds, I heard there's a new jewelry store near that fuckin burger joint we used to visit. That store's free game."
Said Phil.

Phil and Butch watched the club's entertaining rehearsals. Somehow, Phil was ecstatic. This is a the world now, he thought. A life of pleasures, crime, and lots money rollin' around. Doing 20 years in the can...sure worth it.

But Phil recoiled - he's still having bad dreams. He dreamed that, in another far more modern world, someone shot him. Then his head was crushed by a damn metallic weird-looking car. It was a big car. 

"The Royal Diamond special, please." Phil smiled to the waiter.

Phil mentally blocked his thoughts and decided to focus on having a fun night.

With the stress of the last week, still looming over his head. Grimaldo, decided it was time to shed some his worries with a night out on the town. Stopping at his local tailor, he has a fine pinstripe, three piece suit fashioned for tonight's events. 

Finally feeling fresh, Grimaldo dawns his finest jewelry and orders his bodyguard to pull the car around. Down on the sidewalk, Wrench quickly rounds the vehicle and cracks open the door for his boss and takes to the driver seat. 

"Okay boss man, where ya' headed tonight?"

After climbing in the backseat and settling in with a couple fingers of whiskey. Giving it some thought and checking this pocket watch. He noticed six thirty was rolling around and remember that The Detroit Caberet Supper Club, had just premiered their in house production of A Christmas Carol.

"You know Lincoln_Lawyer 's new spot? The supper club on the outskirts of town. Let's head that way. I'm in the mood for dinner and a show, my good man."

It was delightful drive through the city. Admiring the early Christmas lights and decorations popping up around town. This time of the year, it was hard not to feel festive. Sooner than later, the vehicle arrives at the old Victorian building and Grimaldo steps from the back. Leaning in to address Wrench. 

"Go ahead and pull the car around the corner. I'm gonna head in and get seated, meet me at the table once your done. I'll let them know to expect you."

Entering the establishment, leaves Grimaldo astonished by the beautiful and elegant art deco architecture. The color scheme is enough to make any man smile. Making his way to the ticket booths, he pulls his Zippo from his suits breast pocket and sparks up the cigar he's been chewing on. A few puffs later in the ticket line, Grimaldo makes it to the counter.

"How are we today? I'd like to acquire two tickets to tonight's performance, for me and my confidant please."

Mickey watches as Grimaldo and his BG buy their tickets and are led across the room to their seats. Catching the maître de's eye, Mickey surreptitiously signals to the man and points to one of the better tables in the club, the maître de for his part barely nods and directs Grimaldo and his man to the table, signaling to nearby staff, the quickly arrive at the tables, pulling out cairs, pouring glasses of water, and delivering a selection of Hors d’oeuvres and two Old Fashioned. And then, just as quickly as they had appeared they were gone again. Mickey lifted a packet of Morley's from the bar and lit one, before taking a drink of whiskey from a glass also on the bar. Leaning back against the bar he looked out over the club and smiled, business was picking up.

As usual, business was slow. Mickey just couldn't understand it. Back in the day when the Tiscalis had first roamed these streets, Nunio, his Son Benton and his Son Carlo, the business districts had buzzed. People buying and selling, conducting business, negotiating to sell stolen merchandise, or just unwinding with a meal and a drink, but now the streets were on their knees. Sure the population was down, back then there were over 3000 active mafioso, now a mere 400, but the syreets should still be busier than this. Mickey had tried his best to encourage participation, offering money to anyone he saw in the Detroit business district, more money if they frequented businesses owned by fellow Detroit Michiganders, and more again if they opened their own business, and although he had given away around half a million over the last 3 weeks, he had hoped it would be far, far more. 

It wasn't as if Detroit was filled with the so called 'button pushers, people sitting at their desks, only interested in crimes and money, the family lines of CLO, SatoruGojo, R-L_Stine, Freyja, Grimaldo, @AzeriBikiak, and others within the Detroit families where all noted for their street presence, both in the business districts and beyond. Perhaps it was just a symptom of the modern era, people just dodn't have the time for socialising any more. Mickey shook his head in frustration, looks like he would have to sit the Bar examine for Michigan after all.

Grimaldo strolls over with Mickey, to the table and takes his seat. His mouth waters, as the tantalizing hors d'oeuvres come to the table. He picks up the Manhattan and gives it a swirl. Aromatic notes of orange peel and fine whiskey fill the air. Taking a drink and setting it aside, his eyebrow perks up "That's a damn fine Manhattan" the man thinks to himself.

Slowly but surely, the show comes to a prompt opening. While Wrench and Grimaldo enjoy bite after bite, chasing it down with liquor and puffs of cigars in between. Smiling ear to ear the whole time, the show played on. One of the big favorites on the table, definitely had to be the deviled eggs and stuffed mushrooms. The two men basically had to fight over them. This was Grimaldo's first big show in Detroit and it didn't fail to impress. The stage presence and props, were quite the visual pleasure and the actors of the play were grade A. 

Only a small way into the show and already Grimaldo was having a great night.

Amelia was stuck in Detroit for a few more hours, which meant it was up to her to wander around and find ways to entertain herself until her flight took off. Why her flights were always six hours after her business concluded, she'd never understand. Hopefully one day the timetables would be sorted and she'd be able to wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am all the cities, but until that day she was stuck. And like so many of her travels ended, Amelia was hungry as all-heck. Which was why she was at Lincoln's place. They weren't overly close as friends, but he seemed smart enough to know how to put together a menu that wouldn't offend her. 

When she was greeted at the door by a woman Amelia smiled, "Just a table for one today, I'm afraid." She said before following the worked into the resturant. The design choices were interesting and reminded her a bit of how Los Angeles architecture was these days. Pulling her coat off and draping it over the back of the chair before sitting, Amelia accepted the menu graciously. "Can I get a bottle of Cabernet, please?" she asked the woman who had sat her. 

With the beverage of the day sorted she opened the menu and started to read over it. Surprised to find it was aimed towards Christmas, it wasn't often places had a proper menu, and to have a seasonale one actually increased Amelia's respect for Lincoln slightly. That was some interesting and clever business owner work right there, and she was excited to see what the food tasted like. 

Mickey sat at the bar and watched as the staff glided around the room handing out drinks and hors d'ouvres. Up on the stage Louise Brooks was going through her act, dancing to "I Want To Be Bad", although it wasn't Helen Kane singing but the clubs own female vocalist. Mickey reached into his pocket and took out a packet of Morleys, lighting one before setting the packet and his lighter on the bar. Maybe things where starting to turn around, that would be a real Christmas Miracle.

Pete walked into The Detroit Caberet Supper Club.   He was excited as he heard what the third course meal contained.  He was ready to eat and enjoy the night.  He was sat at a table with Neri, Nails and Joey.  The four men sat down and at the same time they all pulled out their brand of cigarettes and lit them.  They started talking about the day and breaking balls about who did what and who didnt do what was planned.  They laughed and joked until the waitress brought them there meal.  

They men started smiling and started eating as she filled each persons glass with wine.  They each thanked her and then went back to talking while eating anyone walking by knew that these guy's have been friends for years or they were brothers or served together in the military.  

Mickey walked into the Caberet Supper Club and took his usual place at the bar. Without asking the barman stopped stocking the shelves and brought him a coffee. Mickey had been away for a few days, a holiday and business of sorts. He had been making money hand over fist, and his legal practice and various business interests could onlynaccount for so much of it. Even with his fabled generosity and giving away $25,000,000 to Pepsi-Cola he still had more dirty money than he knew what to do with, so he had taken a trip to Scotland. 

Why Scotland you may ask? Well for a start Mickey didn't want for his family to follow in the bad choices of he and his father. Mickey Senior had defended Mafioso before he died, opening the doors for Mickey Jnr to join the Mafia, become Consigliere to SatoruGojo and ultimately his RHM. Whilst this had given him untold wealth, it had not given him stability. Death lurked around every corner, and where death didn't lurk the option of life imprisionment at the hands of the FBN did. His hands may be clean of blood, no one had ever seen him kill, or could point to a body in the morgue, but his name was all over the books. In fact in 35 years time it was just possible that a certain Thomas Hagen would be based on him in a cetain Mario Puzo novel, and played by Robert Duvall in a possible cinema adaptation a few years later. But that was besides the point, back to Scotland.

Mickey had travelled to Scotland to buy some property, Dulmany in the Firth of Forth to be precise. He'd been at a party in the Astoria a few weeks previously for a meeting of the Consiglieres, and had met Albert Edward Harry Meyer Archibald Primrose, 6th Earl of Rosebery, 2nd Earl of Midlothian, who just happened to experiencing money issues. He'd invested heavily in various American companies and lost a clean fortune in the Depression. Unlike many other wealthy men, Rosebury's fortunes had not recovered with the Stock Markets, and he was still heavily in debt. He'd been in New York to see his Lawyers to find out what, if anything could be done. It was then that Mickey had seen his opertunity, and offered to buy Dulmany House and Estate. $15,000,000 had seen the deal done, it worked out at just under £3,000,000.

And just like that Mickey had become a Laird. He wouldn't get the Earl of Rosebury title, that would stay with Albert's family, but now Mickey had a way out if he needed it, he could simply disappear and never be found again, the Mafia would expect him to go to LA or Mexico, but no one would expect him to move to Scotland. Didn't hurt either that he'd bought 20,000 gallons of Scotch while he was there, representing most of the major Islay brands, and a few choice bottles as an investment.

Things were back to normal, kind of, his holiday purchase was in the past, work was taking over his life again between his usual RHM duties and his Court Room duties. Added to the fact that Satoru seemed to have lost interest in everything except sports and alcohol and work was all he seemed to have at the moment. Despite this being the mouth of Christmas, morale seemed down across Detroit, so much so that he'd even been forced to talk to CLO about the situation, still, could have been worse  he may have been forced to ring New York and talk to @Le-Semois. At least things weren't that bad. He'd taken over the Don's role of walking the neighbourhood, greeting the locals, making sure that the people knew who was in control. He'd been disappoinyed to see the quality of some of the interactions between the mobsters and the businesses. One person in particular seemed intent on shitting all over the business district, moving from one defuct business to another, and leaving behind the kjnd of inanr drivel that if this was a book or a BBs on some server in the far distant future, that the readers would hurriedly look around for a blade, or glass, or even a rusty spoon, anything with which they could open a vein and end their suffering. Fo fuck sake, donuts, normally onky huy donuts in the summer, but now might buy in the winter and the shop was empty, because people were saving to save for saving or some such shit. You really couldn't write shit like that. Well, Mickey hoped that no one could write shit like that, there was enough grief in the world without putting some poor ethereal fucker through the torment of reading that crap. Next thing you know he'd be going to a hookers and talking about having a wank in order to save money.

Mickey lit a cigarette, and signalled for a drink, Whiskey, and leave the bottle... this was definitely a bottle of Whiskey kindnof day.

Sammy didn't normally get a whole lot of free time when he was out on business, but today he was feeling extra festive for the holidays and decided to go see a show. He had heard about Cabaret Supper Club from an associate of his back home. He decided to grab a royal diamond level ticket to have one hell of a time.

The food was fantastic and A Christmas carol was one of his favorite holiday stories. The theater was a bit to fancy for his simple roots, but he still enjoyed a taste of luxury from time to time. Sammy was known for expensive tastes, but it was usually spent on fine whiskey and fast cars. All of this food was slowly starting to make Sammy feel like a bloated Christmas hog roasted over an open flame.

Finally, as the show came to an end he finished his last plate and decided to head out a little early to beat the crowds.

The boys decided to take Ann out on the town for a little Christmas holiday away from home. Sure the bright lights and endless nights of New York were fantastic, but even that gets stale sometimes. So here she was, with four burley men, all acting like she was their little sis, when in reality, she was their boss. But Ann knew the sentiment was genuine and so she obliged them; plus they were picking up the tab.

Their driver pulled up and the valet rushed to the car. Ann took one look at the façade and immediately taken with the architecture. The Detroit Caberet Supper Club.  As soon as she walked in, she knew this was a special place and the food did not disappoint! Sammy boasted that they had spared no expense and the Royal Diamond was where it was at. After dinner they ordered Sambuca with coffee bean and watched the Christmas show. Ann looked around knowing this was were the city’s posh elected officials were guests of some of the most powerful underworld bosses. The heavy security was impressive and Ann felt at ease and enjoyed the reprieve of her schedule, if only for one night.

She was on the hunt for a new tea cup. Not just any tea cup, a tea cup that could hold a fifth of whisky. She missed her tea cup terribly. On top of that the Mad Hatter threw a fit when he discovered she didn't have her tea cup any more.  He was so upset he pulled the dormouse of the tea kettle and slapped jam into his pocket watch.  Alice thought she nearly saw smoke come from his ears.

Tea cup hunting was tiring business and she needed a break so she decided to stop into the Caberet Supper club. As she walked in her eyes grew wide this place was well more elegant than Rutledge asylum and near as cheery as Wonderland.  Approached by a waiter  she was asked how many in her party. She looked next to her and behind her, there was only her. She knew she was prone to hallucinations and delusions , but who did this guy see with her?  She cleared her throat." Just one." The waiter lead her to her table and handed her a menu. 

She giggled softly and thought the Walrus would enjoy this menu. The waiter returned to her several minutes later asking if she was ready to order.

"Uhm, I think the plumb pudding with cognac cream will be fine, thank you." She set the menu on the edge of the table and the waiter took as he left. She sat wondering if she would ever find a suitable tea cup replacement. 

Today was a good day, it wasn't every day that someone made a public declaration of love, even if that person was an asshat. Mickey had never realised until today how wrong he had been. The Kuku line weren't complete douches because of some congential brain disfunction, it was because they loved him, and as had been seen time and time again love had a powerful effect on those who couldn't show their true emotions. 

It must be hard to have to hide your true feelings, to mask them under a veil of hatred because of some misheld notion of masculinity. To have to constantly lie and cheat and murder people to try and make yourself feel better because you hurt so badly inside. It almost made Mickey feel bad for the guy... almost. But here he was, out in the streets admitting that his father had murdered in cold blood, two complete strangers for allegedly having links to Mickey. Mickey knew where his sympathy lay, it was with the family's of the the two men lying in the morgue, men he didn't even know. Mickey lit a Morley and shook his head. Maybe one day the world would be free from the idiots and the haters, maybe.

Bacon walked into the club like a true pig. Staring at the working ladies and running into tables like an idiot. This was Bacon's first time being around scantily clad women. Even crazier, they actually wanted to hangout with Mr. Bacon.

Finding a stool at the bar he ordered a drink and started watching the club's entertainment. 

"I'm sure I'll run into someone here soon," he thought to himself as he sipped on his beer. "Give a round for Sprinkles ladies and gentlemen!" said the voice through the loud speakers that were being operated by the DJ. It seemed the club's evening performers were preparing to take the stage as Bacon waited in great anticipation. 

Mickey looked on bemused, it appeared that Bacon had mistaken the early evening burlesque show for a strip show. He could have addressed Bacon himself, considering they were both seated at the bar, but he was unsure as how the new hand would react to the Hand of the Godfather Chairman of Detroit appearing beside him. Instead he summoned the Maître d' over and whispered in his ear, the Maître d' nodded his head and approached the erstwhile hand. Gesturing down the bar, he addressed Bacon.

"Mr Bacon Sir, Mr Haller bids you welcome to his club, and would like to take this oppertunity to remind you that it is a club of some standing and no merely a syrip bar or bordello."

Mickey simple looked along the bar, smiled and raised his glass in salute. Everyone can make a mistake after all, and if Mr Bacon was too drunk to realise his faux pas, then the bouncers would be happy to show him the error of his ways.

The Bounder had enjoyed his tea, not bad for these yanks to actually get something so quintissentially English correct but credit where it is due.

The Bounder was considering how to finish off his evening when he happened across a supper club

'Ding bloody Dong, this'll do'

Walking it, cigarette holder clenched between his teeth, tapping his cane at the attendants he ventured in

'I say, how about you bring me your finest.........*eyebrows eyebrows* red and i'll see about the wine later

I say!