Last week, Line Out (The Stranger's music and nightlife blog) broke the sad news that Capitol Hill nightclub King Cobra—which opened in January of 2008 and was looking for buyers/investors to help cover its costs as early as last July—would be closing this past weekend, with its final night on Friday, February 27. Here are three snapshots from King Cobra's final 24 or so hours.

Friday, February 27, 1:00 a.m.

On Thursday night (or technically early Friday morning), 206Proof behemoth Billy the Fridge was hosting the appropriately bizarre release party for his new CD, Million Dollar Fantasy Freak Show. By this hour, the doughnut-eating competition was over, but the freak show was in full swing, with the Fridge presiding over a final showdown between a couple of exotic dancers who were apparently competing for a prize of 1,000 quarters. Billy was MCing but not rapping; after the crowd awarded one of the dancers the contentious prize based on applause, Champagne Champagne MC Pearl Dragon hopped on the mic to perform a song while the crowd thinned out to the bar and the street. Outside, Seattle Semi-Pro Wrestling cofounder Nathaniel Pinzon had been ejected, he said, for slapping King Cobra soundman "Greedy" Greg Williamson over a financial dispute.

Friday, February 27, 6:00 p.m.

The news that King Cobra was closing came suddenly—Emerald City Soul Club DJ Gene Balk received a call on Sunday the 22nd letting him know that that Saturday's Talcum would be canceled due to the club's closing (that night is relocating to the Baltic Room)—and booker Justin Wojslaw didn't have much time to put together the club's last bash. Of course, many of the club's regular acts were happy to hop on the bill on short notice, making King Cobra's last night a familial affair. Pain Cocktail were slated to go on around 5:00 p.m., but at happy hour, the club was quietly showing the Bill Maher movie Religulous to a few regulars seated at the bar; Wojslaw explained that a couple of the night's bands, including Pain Cocktail, had to cancel due to not being able to get off work.

Friday, February 27, 10:00 p.m.

At 10:00 p.m., San Francisco band Flexx Bronco were setting up onstage, and while the showroom floor was empty, the rest of the club was filling up. The crowd consisted of the club's usual mix of River's Edge–looking heshers, spikes-and-studs punks, and the more casually attired. Two guys in baseball caps were engaging in some locker-room play fighting by the upstairs bar. Despite his band having to cancel, Slats was (of course) there. Flexx Bronco played a forgettable set of rock 'n' roll–heavy punk rock, lots of guitar solos, guitar players hopping around on one foot, other leg kicked out in a jackknife pose, or else pointing guitars straight up from the crotch, noodling. They shot clouds of smoke and glitter into the air, strobes flashed, the singer's vocals were a forgiving mumble in the mix. Other obligations called, but it looked like King Cobra was having itself a fine last bash. RIP.