"Jazz"

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Revision as of 02:10, 3 October 2011 by Denical (Talk | contribs)
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You're 22, fit, smart, and more than a little sick of people thinking they're smarter than you. They're not, and they should know their place. You've worked as a freelance escort for almost two years and have made your peace with the job. Truth is, when you get to call the shots, it's a great fucking job.

Your contact is a Latin guy who calls himself Speed (after his lifestyle or his drug of choice, you choose). He's mostly solid, but you're getting the impression you're on his shit list. No more client bios or big events. Now you're room candy or worse. Today's "meet a taxi" job tells you he's trying to lose you. Once you start the "taxi-to-somewhere" circuit, the smart girls quit. Otherwise, one day that taxi takes you someplace that fucks you up.

You? You're a smart girl. Hell, you could fucking run Speed's business, and he wants to dump you-

-so why did you get in the Goddamned taxi?

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