"She had dumps like a truck, truck truck, guys like what? What, what, all night loooooooong!" A croaking would-be-angelic-if-it-didn't-sound-so-liquored-up voice practically yelled in front of Monroe's Diner. The fact that it was one o'clock in the morning didn't seem to distract from the fact that it still wasn't right to see what was happening in front of the otherwise peaceful diner.

A man, dressed strangely, but in neutral colours, was singing the 'Thong song' at the topv of his voice. This man was not, in fact, a man. He was an angel. Not a very good one in the strictest sense, but then again, who took that sense to begin with? Macallister, pimp and angel extraordinare, wore his usual trench coat (unnaturally clean, considering his usual demeanor. Rolling on the floor was a common attraction.) with black pants, old unlaced construction boots, no shirt, and a black bowtie. Hm. He was all dressed up with nowhere to go.

No wonder he was outside the diner.

In his left hand he held a large beer bottle, which gurgled and sloshed as he danced around off tempo (come to think of it, was there a tempo?). His arms were held out wide as if he saw someone he recognized far off and was about to greet them with a bear hug. However, if this is how he greeted friends, then no wonder people were yelling for him to shove off...

"Let me see that thooooooooooooong!" Giggle. Sip.

Scarlet heard the drunken bellowing from the corner where she usually stood, and decided to take a look. Afterall, men that were drunk were more inclined to spend money than sober ones. You can remember that one, kid.

So, breaking out her best strut, she walked her little self around the corner to see something she hadn't expected.

He was attractive.

Very much so, actually. And dressed like he was going somewhere snazzy. Apparently he wasn't going to any such place, due to the lewdness of the song he was belting out, and the fact he was throughtly sloshed.

Maybe this one'll be worthwhile.. She thought with a slightly dirty smile. She walked foreward to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

Mac swivelled dangerously and faced the woman who had tapped him on the shoulder. He didn't seem to see her at first, but then his eyes caught her and he broke in to a large smile, his blue eyes brightening. "A girl!" He boomed, obviously very happy to have encountered a female stranger.

"Hello, pretty thing!" He exlaimed, a few people swearing in his direction, to which he took no notice at all. He accidentaly dropped his bottle and looked over where it had landed in shards of brown glass and beer. He whimpered pitifully.

Scarlet looked down at the shattered bottle, then back up at the man with a grin. She placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke in her best 'seductive' voice.

"Heya honey... you dropped your drink. Aw... " She said, trailing a finger from his shoulder to his jaw. "That's too bad."

Nice... very nice, actually. C'mon, Letty, lets make this one good.

Mac looked completely sad. In fact a tear fell down his cheek from his good eye, the other one covered by his black eyepatch. He murmured something that sounded like 'Herbert', unaware of the fact that if he named his bottles it put him in a whole different category of crazy.

"Wait a moment, babe..." He said, brushing away the tear and then forcefully placing his gaze back on her. "Sorry, do I know you?"

Flashing a little smile, she walked around him tracing her finger over his skin. The eyepatch she found somewhat.. interesting, but she could easily get over that. Lesson two: Always try to find the attractive side of a client. Makes thing easier for the both of you.

"Well, not yet... but I'm sure we can," She came back around the face him, her hand on his chest. "remedy that..."

"Heeeeeeeeey..." He said, pointing at her as if he recognized her, which he did not. "Are you a hooker?" He asked politely, as if he were asking for the time. People seemed to be thankful that he had stopped his garbbled and crude singing, even if he was talking loudly.

"What's your name, sweetness?" He asked as he rummaged through his trench coat pockets.

Scarlets smile faultered for only a second, the returned full force.

Lord... Drunks.

"My name is Scarlet, love. What's yours?" She asked, leaning forward slightly, showing off her abundant cleavage. She didn't like being called a hooker, but it was the truth. She liked it better than whore... or slut. Of course, slut wasn't the right term. They don't get paid.. Scarlet was very particular about these things.

Mac smiled, and it seemed for a moment that he had been play-acting the entire drunk bit. It was as if in that moment he was sober and, dare we admit it, normal. He finally took out something from his pockets. It was a small black business card with silver writing on it. It said 'A Slice of Heaven' then gave an address and instructions on the other side.

"In case you want to be professionaly handled. My partner and I can set you up well. And safely, of course."

I'm sure it was safe to say that Scarlet hadn't been expecting that. Taking the black card and inspecting it, she looked back at him warily. She straightened herself up, no longer feeling the need to make an exibit of herself.

"You mean to tell me.. you're in the business?" She asked, looking him up and down. And apparently sober... hmm. An act, I suppose?

He smiled, wobbling slightly on his feet. Apparently he only acted sobered with the prospect of getting a new girl and thus new money. He could really sober himself up if he wanted to, but he was too drunk to remember he could. Vicious circle, really.

"Oh yes. I'm in the business. And we take good care of our girls. Very good care. And you can leave any time you want, if it doesn't float your boat." He grinned sheepishly, "I'm Mac, by the way." He tipped his head politely to her, which was unusual for his usually robust and drunken self.

Pursing her lips, Scarlet narrowed her eyes at the man.

"How can I know that you're not going to be a slave driver? I've heard of girls in the rought side of town that have it off pretty bad. Asking for more money than they can make, then taking it out of their skins when they don't pay it." Her voice back to her normal tone. No need for the 'seductress act' now was there?

Mac shook his head slowly. "We give them each a fee according to their popularity, and we take a small percentage. And you can move in to the palace, which is luxurious, I assure you." He didn't mention that it was tacky and 80's themed, but that's because he didn't think it was either of those.

"You can check it out and ask a few of the girls, if you want."

Scarlet let out a laugh.

"A few of the girls? I don't associate with those... women, thank you. But... thanks for the invitation.. I suppose I can check out the 'Palace', you called it? How may others are there?" She asked, putting a hand on her hip, the other holding the card she was still looking at.

Mac shrugged and seemed to be thinking it other. "Somewhere in the hundreds, I think. Depending on which section." He should have elaborated, but the guy was wearing a bow tie with nothing else, so high expectations were probably not the wisest.

Nodding, Scarlet sighed and looked up at him. He seemed so... she didn't know what he seemed, but it wasn't normal.

Don't think Scarlet... wait until you get home to do that.

"Last question... what kind of clients do you usually attract? Because you know thats the most important part of it all." She said blandly.

"Rich ones."

Simple answer.

He grinned and held out his hand to her...there, in the palm of his hand, was the very same bottle that had shattered to many pieces on the ground. Indeed, the shards were no longer on the pavement, along with the beer.

"Offer you a drink?"

Pause. Blink. Cocked eyebrow.

"How did you...? Nevermind.. I don't want to know. And yes, please." She said, grabbing the bottle and taking a long gulp. Wiping her lips, she looked back at Mac.

"I might take you up... but... I don't know. I don't know if I like the idea of being owned. Could come back and bite me in the ass..." She said, a slightly demented smile crossing her lips.