The Hooker Brothers and The King bees hated each other with a passion. This truth was no stranger to the streets of New Orleans. No matter what one gang did, the other did the exact opposite. The Hooker Brothers were weirdos with screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdos, they had skulls on their shoes and whipped through the streets in their old cars. The King Bees were eloquent, always dressed in yellow suits and black ties. Their leader, a former soldier with a broken arm that never properly healed was often seen with a gun and a trumpet.
Whenever a Hooker and a Bee met, havoc ensued. They fought, screamed, threw punches, threatened and killed. It was common to find a man or two dead and soaked in blood a dirty alley. The only place both sides seemed to get along and not destroy in a fit of rage was a small jazz bar named A Crack in A Sky. In there, Sky Jones played the trumpet and sang. The man was so bad that no amount of beer was enough to help swallow his music,