Page 191 of Sweet Dominion

“I just had that duck from Chef Foo, Banks.” DJ Hendrix pointed at him. “I don’t know, man. You know I rock with you, but that duck was doing what duck do.”

Banks munched on Chef Foo’s crispy pork. “His food wasn’t bad! Just need a little bit more soul!”

“Soul my ass!” Jo loudly snorted.

“Alright! Alright!” DJ Hendrix lowered Michael Jackson a little bit. “Everyone get back in your seats because it is time for Banks to shine. I have personally ate many of his masterpieces so I know that the competition isn’t over yet.”

“That’s right!” Banks put his plate down, wiped his hands on his apron and put these dark shades over his eyes. “Chef Foo was good but let me show you all what soul food tastes like at a cookout!”

As Banks sauntered confidently towards the stage, DJ Hendrix cued up James Brown’sI Feel Good.

And I knew that the real craziness was about to begin.

Chapter thirty-five

Big Mama’s Kitchen

Lei

The staff cleared our plates and started bringing us new cloth napkins, forks, knives, spoons, and water as a palate cleanser.

Everyone began to settle back down in their seats.

Seconds later, Banks stepped up onto the stage with his signature swagger, flanked by his three assistants—Sweet, Savory, and Salty.

Moni crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh my God. What does my cousin have planned?”

Once on stage, Banks signaled to DJ Hendrix, who immediately dropped a jazzy, upbeat tune that made the whole crowd sit up a little straighter.

What is this?

Drums pounded. A saxophone wailed as a horn blared and then a man’s voice rang out, loud and powerful, “Hot Barbecue!”

The beat was infectious. The sound of saxophones, deep bass, and jazzy piano riffs filled the air as Banks and the women began to move in sync.

“O-kay.” Moni bounced in her chair to the beat. “He’s going to give us a show.”

The crowd clapped with them.

Banks and his assistants danced to the rhythm, hips swaying in unison as the man on the track kept shouting, “Hot Barbecue!” every few seconds.

When the saxophone took over the solo, Banks got in the middle and slowly twirled with the smoothness of someone who knew how to put on a show.

His white apron flared out like a cape.

And the women shook their hips next to him.

Jo yelled, “Boy, this isn’t a dance competition!”

Moni hit her arm. “Leave him alone.”

Jo took out a joint from her jacket and a lighter. “And you know Banks and the girls were practicing this shit all last night.”

Moni looked at her. “But Banks didn’t even know there was going to be a Grill Off—”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Jo snickered. “Dude was going to do this dance regardless.”

“Oh God!”

---