#crackerjack cookie

For some reason, you find your attention being brought to a swing jazz club. There’s two Gingerfolk outside of it, chatting idly as they spin their keys about their fingers and sip on their drinks. One of them is familiar to you, that brightly colored greyscale toon, but the one standing beside him, dressed in a red, white, and blue suit isn’t. 

Regardless, the place isn’t opened for the day yet it seems, or perhaps it just closed? It is a night club, after all, if the signs outside and in the windows are anything to go by.