The Cherry Pies - Casual sighting

Neon lights brightening the relaxed Friday night, highly saturated hues of purple, green, and blue emanating from buildings and hologram billboards. Amidst countless nightclubs and pleasure joints in the Mid Corners of Arthropocity, the rock trio strolled casually.

"How about that one?" Spikal asked. Her long tail swayed gracefully amid the steam escaping from the underground through metal grates, her lethal, knife-sharp stinger reflecting the incessant lights of the metropolis.

"No way," Abigail interjected. She glanced sideways at the club's bouncer: an S-Corp android, Bodyguard 3K model, effective at throwing troublemakers out, preferably by leaving a bloodstain on the nearest wall. The grasshopper snorted, her numerous robotic prosthetics making a slight mechanical squeak. "Chellri's been banned from that club."

"When?" Chellri asked sarcastically, peering over her sunglasses with their crimson cyber-irises.

"When you decided to give an anarchist speech and incited a massive brawl after three bottles of Carbon Honey in the middle of our show" - Abigail retorted, but with a mischievous smile on her face, she'd enjoyed the mayhem.

"I don't remember doing that."

"If I had as much alcohol in my blood as you did, I wouldn't be surprised if I don't remember" - Spikal commented - "You promised you'd cut back on the drinking."

"I don't remember promising that." - Chellri looked away - "I think I was drunk when I said that."

"You were" - Abigail added - "Crying in my lap in the emergency room. You still owe me the cash for that bill."

"When we get famous, I'll pay you back everything I owe you, sweetheart." - Chellri grabbed her friend's hand. The cold, metallic limb made a mechanical clinking of servomotors as she held it back.

Abigail blushed.

"We won't get famous if we keep getting kicked out of nightclubs" - Spikal grumbled. "Maybe saving the drinking for after the show is a good idea."

"My best lyrics come when alcohol fuels my ideas, baby, just like Johnny Silverclaw did" - Chellri replied, ignoring the advice about her addiction as usual.

"There's no point in talking to you, is there?" - Spikal snorted. She genuinely wanted to help her friend avoid ending up with severe cirrhosis; the Great Light knows how expensive synthetic livers are.

The pink scorpion's reddish visor alerted her; a camera was aiming at her. Initially, her tail lashed the air, and the metal stinger extended to almost twice its original size. She was always on the lookout for stalkers, unlikely groupies of her clumsy rock band, but rather someone interested in the bounty for her shell.

But her suspicions were soon dispelled when she traced the source to a hexa-cellphone belonging to a Bug dressed in dark, torn clothes, with spiked bracelets and a choker: it was indeed a groupie of the band, one of the few who even knew of the Cherry Pies' existence.

She sighed in relief. The tail returned to the ground, the stinger retracted to its normal size. She grabbed her friends' waists and smiled: "Look! Looks like we're signing some autographs today!" Chelli and Abigail, initially confused, noticed the presence of the random Bug.

"I'll give an autograph for 10 Bugbucks," Abigail said.

“Hey man,” Chellri had an idea, “Do you know any good clubs for a rock show around here?”