Tommy Armstrong was a man of the horn—a trumpet player with soul deep enough to fill the streets of New York, but here he was, stranded in Las Vegas.

The year was 1949, and he had once dreamed of playing Carnegie Hall with his big band, The Swing Serenaders. But instead, he was stuck on the lounge circuit, squeezing notes out of his trumpet for half-empty casino bars, hoping for a miracle. His luck had dried up like the Nevada desert, and every night, the neon lights outside the Sands Hotel seemed to mock him with their flickering promises of fortune and fame.

That night, after yet another set filled with the familiar swing tunes that the crowd didn’t seem to hear, Tommy made his way to the casino bar. The smoky air clung to his skin, and the hum of slot machines filled the space, drowning out the remnants of his performance. He ordered a whiskey, neat—his drink of choice when trying to forget that his dream had lost its shine.

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass and scanned the room. Faces came and went like shadows in this town, but none of them ever stuck. Vegas was a place of illusions—everything glittered, but nothing was real. It wasn’t a town to stay in. It was a town to survive.

As he was nursing his drink, his eyes landed on her.

There she was, sitting at the far end of the bar, a cigarette hanging loosely between her fingers, like a movie star who had stepped off the silver screen. Her platinum blonde curls shimmered under the dim lights, and her eyes, half-hidden by the soft glow of the cigarette smoke, carried the weight of a thousand untold stories. She didn’t look like she belonged here either. Just like Tommy, she had the air of someone waiting for something more.

He’d been looking for someone like her all over town—someone who still had a spark left in this twisty place of dead-end dreams. And in that moment, he knew. She was the only real thing in the room.

Tommy took a deep breath, wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, and approached her. He slid into the seat next to her, careful not to disturb the cloud of mystery she carried with her.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough from too many late nights and not enough sleep. “I’ve been lookin’ for you all over town.”

She turned her head slowly, her red lips curling into the faintest smile. “You found me,” she said, taking a slow drag on her cigarette, the ember flaring up before she exhaled a thin line of smoke.

“Yeah,” Tommy muttered, staring into her eyes. “But I’m not sure what I’ve found.”

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the casino pressing in on them from all sides. The lights blinked and buzzed around them, and yet, they seemed to exist in their own bubble, separate from the rest of the world.

“This town is strange,” Tommy said after a while, staring at his drink. “All the neon lights stay the same, but everything else changes.”

She chuckled, a sound as soft as velvet. “Vegas will do that to you. It twists you up, spits you out, and leaves you wondering what the hell just happened.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I can’t help thinkin’ that maybe… it’s not the town. Maybe it’s just me.”

She glanced at him, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s your story, trumpet man?”

Tommy sighed. “I’ve been dealt a lot of bad hands lately. Joker sittin’ next to me every damn time. I keep praying for some kind of rain to come and wash it all away, but… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like there’s no getting out of this twisty town.”

She looked at him for a long time, her cigarette burning down to ash. “You won’t get very far in a place like this if you keep thinkin’ like that,” she said quietly. “But… maybe you don’t need to get out.”

Tommy frowned. “What do you mean?”

She smiled again, a bit sadder this time. “Maybe what you’re looking for isn’t somewhere else. Maybe it’s here. Right now. You just have to see it.”

Before he could answer, she stood up, leaving the cigarette smoldering in the ashtray. “Good luck, Tommy Armstrong,” she said over her shoulder. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

And just like that, she disappeared into the swirl of gamblers and shadows, leaving Tommy sitting alone at the bar, staring after her. He felt the weight of the night settle back on his shoulders. The world had shifted for a brief moment, and now it was back to its twisty old self.

But for the first time in a long while, Tommy thought maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t been dealt a losing hand after all. Maybe, this time, he’d found something worth sticking around for.

“Whoo Hoo Hoo,” he hummed under his breath, a tune forming in his head as he reached for his trumpet.

Lyrics

Whoo Hoo Hoo
Whoo Hoo Hoo
Whoo Hoo Hoo

Well I’ve been lookin’ all over town
Lookin’ for someone like you
Though I haven’t found
Anything will do

I said this town is kind of strange
All the neon lights are still the same
And I know there’s no one here to blame
No one here but you

But there
You are
Smoking a cigarette by the end of the bar
Look at the world we found

Here we all are
Living in twisty town
I said you won’t get very far
Living in twisty town

Whoo Hoo Hoo
Whoo Hoo Hoo
Whoo Hoo Hoo

I’ve been praying for some rain
To come and wash the memories away
Won’t somebody help me to explain
Why this world’s so cruel

Well I’ve been dealt a losin’ hand
The joker sittin’ next to me again
Won’t someone help me comprehend
Why this just won’t do

But there
You are
Smokin’ a cigarette like a movie star
Look at the world we found

Here we all are
Living in twisty town
I said you won’t get very far
Living in twisty town

But there
You are
Smokin’ a cigarette like a movie star
Look at the world we found

Here we all are
Living in twisty town
I said you won’t get very far
Living in twisty town

Here we are all
Living in twisty town
I said you won’t get very far
Living in twisty town

Whoo Hoo Hoo
Whoo Hoo Hoo
Whoo Hoo Hoo

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Written by Brian Jay Cline
Produced by Punish Studios enhanced by A.I.