Read it clearly, please.
The guitar sounded terrible and the piano looked cheap. The four members of the group seemed as if they had come out of a picture of the 60's. Detective Bronson wondered if they were real. The singer of the group appeared at that moment. She was a woman who must have spent two hours making up her face to look a little younger. Her low cut dress was a couple of sizes too small for her and was threatening to burst open at any time. When she started to sing her voice sounded just as out of tune as the old piano. Bronson leaned against an old counter and felt for his gun. He felt a bit safer with his old .38 in its holster beneath his jacket. He asked for a beer. A stout barman wearing a dirty apron pushed a foaming mug in front of him.
