***.

Shortie pushed through the dirty, crowded street, an eye out for any new talent amoungst the usual filth that occupied the main road of the red-light district. Fresh blood got snapped up quickly in this area, any pretty face with an inkling of potential was devoured as soon as they appeared.
Roughly, she grabbed a girl by the hair, dragging the street-rat's face close to her own. The girl's startled cry didn't even reach her ears before Shortie pushed the kid away. Disgusting. Missing teeth, a few scars. Trash. Wouldn't sell in Shortie's lot.

Shortie was the most succesful, most feared and most known pimp in the district. It was no secret that she ruled this city with an iron fist. And, for such a ruling, it was necessary that she only had the best of the best.

Running requirements:
-Full set of teeth.
-No ugly/ prominent scars.
-Some sense of personal hygiene

Anything else went, as long as you were making the money. If you didn't bring in the cash, you were out of a job. If you were out of a job then you were back to standing on street corners, selling yourself for pennies.
Average time a jobless hooker lasted on the street: 2.78 years. Known fact. You didn't want to end up on the streets.

Shortie was currently running at a grand total of 22 females, 13 males, and two whom she didn't really know what the hell they were, but sold well enough. Expansion was key to success, and that was what forced her into the town tonight.

Through too-thick makeup, stragly bleach-blonde hair and blood shot eyes the trash of the city (the trash of the trash) watched the small, cruel-faced pimp make her way through rejected prostitutes. Any that didn't move automatically were thrown aside with her trademark strut and swing of her cane.
Deep within the shadow of her large, feathered hat, past the vacant glaze of her shining eyes, a singular, cliched thought lingered in her mind. This was going to be a long night.
This street had no potential.