Music: Fats on Fire

(2 of 2)

A few more slugs of Scotch, gin and beer ("I don't like the stuff, but it keeps me goin' "), and it was time for the second performance. Fats slipped on his four-carat diamond ring, sank a horseshoe-shaped diamond stickpin in a rich new tie. From the stage, the whine of an electric guitar and the bleat of a sax vibrated through the walls; the rock 'n' roll picadors were wearing down the audience. As his handlers hovered, Fats stuffed himself into a fresh, shimmering suit, then stepped daintily out of the dressing room and trotted onstage for the kill.