Step down a darkened, narrow alleyway lit only by a single gas lamppost and stride casually but confidently toward a rusty iron door flanked on either side by identical burly-looking, no-nonsense bodyguards. Two stunning young ladies are ushered into the club ahead of you, on the arms of a pair of uptight-looking gents with shifty eyes. Be prepared to get a little roughed up by The Twins before you’re let in to the glamourous world of the Bootlegger’s Ball; this party is only for the well-connected. Upon admittance, kick back and mix with the crowd by ordering a round of drinks for any table with important-looking characters hunched over it in shady conversation. Flappers make the rounds handing out fun money for gambling and take drink orders. Scanning the room you notice oak barrels and crates lining the club’s walls, filled with whatever was smuggled in during the week. Small and large groups of lively and interesting characters are enjoying animated conversation or listening to the jumpy jazz trio in the corner. A smouldering female voice begins singing and you look over your shoulder to see a classy-looking woman join the band on stage. Could that be Mae West? There’s no mistaking that voice…

Out of the intermingling hum of music and conversation you begin to hear something seemingly out of tune with the relaxed atmosphere. Shouting has erupted in the opposite corner, where a temperance lady who somehow made her way into the club undetected is berating a young flapper serving gin. The Twins get involved, a melee ensues and soon the police are involved, unbeknownst to them they’ve stepped into an illegal nightclub, thanks to some quick aesthetic changes. Justice is served in favour of the club, the uniforms depart and soon the party is back in full swing. You spend the rest of the night drinking with new friends, playing roulette and out-bluffing the blackjack dealers, flanked by high society and organized crime. You may even find yourself with a new career.