Who says Prohibition is a bad thing? That thought was running through Gregos' mind as he stumbled out of his fourth speakeasy of the evening. Sure maybe you're drinking your hootch out of a teacup but that added a little elegance to the proceedings. For some reasons the bands in the nightclubs were playing hotter music than ever. Gregos particularly liked this new kind of music they were playing. It was called jazz. They said There was a hot trumpeter down in New Orleans named Louis Armstrong who was blowing the roof out of every joint he played in. "I wish he'd come to Sunset Boulevard," mumbled Gregos as he walked down that familiar LA street. "Still it's a beautiful night and the stars are out." As he looked up to gaze at the stars, he was startled by a rough angry voice. "Hey, Bub watch where you're going," it said. Gregos looked up and I mean way up to stare into an angry face who looked like he would take Gregos out at the slightest provocation. Both men were wearing pin-striped suits and sporting dark fedoras. Gregos noted the tell-tale bulge in the giant's suitjacket. So he was carrying a piece too. I bet he's a wise guy as well, thought Gregos. Discretion here would be the better par

Discretion here would be the better part of valour. "Sorry, buddy, I was just gazing up at the stars. Beautiful night isn't it?"  The giant wasn't impressed. Also he was swaying a bit on his feet indicating that he'd probably had more than his share of teacups that evening. "A star-gazer, huh? I hate star-gazers. They're always bumping into people. And I hate being bumped into." The big man patted the part of his jacket where the gun was hidden. Gregos wasn't impressed either but it wasn't his style to show it for no reason. This guy wasn't worth the irritation. "Well sorry, Buddy. I won't do it again. Be seeing you."

But Louis, for that was the big man's name, wasn't going to let it go at that. "And who are you calling buddy? Cause I'm no buddy of any stargazer that's for sure."  Now Gregos was getting annoyed . Friendly wasn't going to work, so maybe abrupt would. "Fine." He started to walk away from Louis. But that didn't work either. "Hey, little man where are you going. No one walks away from Louis, unless Louis says so."

"Alright then Louis. What do you want? I've tried to be nice. I've apologized. I just want to go home and rest my head a little. Too many teacups, if you get my drift."

"What do I want," roared Louis. "What do I want?. Man I want someone to sing with me. I was just down in New Orleans and I heard this cat named Louis Armstrong. Man can he blow a trumped. And he played a version of When The Saints Go Marching In that was a blast. And to sing that song properly you need two people singing in intervals. So let's do it. "Oh when the saints.

To which Gregos dutifully replied, "Oh when the saints..

And that is how two gunsels ended a night of carousing by howling at the moon an old gospel song.