Part 50

The Pleasure Domes.

Even in Santos we'd heard about it - one of the biggest strip clubs on the West Coast, even Venturas didn't have anything that came close to it. DJs played that, and people partied and danced and probably did all kinds of drugs, but the big attraction was the strippers - they was high class, exotic dancers who'd avoided Venturas where they wore out quick. I'd always wanted to go, but not like this, dressed up like a moron and on business instead of pleasure.

I walked up to the front door, two HUGE fucking brothers staring down at me, built like they was walls, not people.

"Fuck off," the one on the left said.

"No ass, no pass," said the one on the right.

"Lissen lissen," I said, putting on the oily charm,"I'se not here on pleasure, I'se here on bidness, got bidness with Jizzy B, what it is."

They looked me up and down as I tugged on my cuffs and brushed imaginary lint off of my arm - playing the part to a tee, a sleazy fucking pimp trying to dress up legit and just looking sleazier than ever.... but that was just what they'd be expecting, and they'd just think of me as some do-nothing pimp trying to look bigger and important than he was. A nobody.

"Maybe Jizzy could use a laugh?" rumbled one of the bouncers, and the other just slowly nodded - pretty impressive since he didn't have no neck - and they stood aside, letting me in. I stepped in, and did my best to keep my mouth shut. There were a few people dancing in the middle of the dance floor, and some sitting around the bar, but most were off in little booths drinking and chatting. And on each table, a fine ass bitch dancing, shaking what her momma gave her. I looked around, peeling my eyes away from each fine set of titties or round jiggling ass till I found what I was looking for.

Jizzy B.

San Fierro's King Pimp.



"Now who's this trick?" he say as walked a round the table the pretty young white girl was wiggling about on,"I don't need no more friends, baby, all they try to do is peel me from my hos."

He sounded just like I'd thought he would, kind of nasal and whiny, trying to make his voice deeper and bigger than it really was, trying to sound bored and disinterested and cool and in control and smart all at the same time.

In other words, he was dumb and he didn't know what the fuck was going on, but he thought he wasn't and he did.

"Nah nah," I told him, bobbing from one foot to another, eager to please, a good little pimp wanting to learn at the feet of the master,"It ain't about them. It's all about you, playa."



"My name is CJ," I told him,""I'm.... offering my services."

"Say what?" say Jizzy, wrinkling his nose, the two hos pressing up against him. He liked to act like the big man, in charge of everything, but he didn't have a clue what I was talking about.

"Yes, sir," I told him, making sure to put enough oily pathetic neediness into that 'sir' as I could,"See, I'm new in town. Anything you want, I can do!"

He didn't say nothing, just sat staring off to my side, the big gorilla standing bodyguard to my side narrowing his eyes, waiting for the word to kick my ass and chuck me out. I pushed hard, swinging for a home run.

"For a guy like me, to work with.... to work FOR.... a guy like Jizzy B, well..."





"Something a little.... dumb muscle like yourself might be able to fix," he told me, pausing... I noticed he paused a lot, and I wasn't sure if he was just trying to figure out what to say next or thought it made him sound smart,"Cause you see me, heh, I'm an intellectual."

"Ahem," he coughed, giving his hos a look they seemed to know,"Y'all walk on down to the bar and fix a pimp a drink."



"See I only got two eyes," Jizzy told me, his two eyes on those two asses wiggling their way away from him,"And on these streets you got to have more than that."



"A hundred eyes, everywhere!" he shouted, throwing his hands up. Maybe he knew what the fuck he was talking about, probably not, but I just let him talk, nodding my head like I fascinated, learning at the feet of the Master Pimp.

"Now...." he said at last, getting to the point,"Some lunatic been fucking with my bitches. Motherfucker killed two last week. I want you... go find out."

He leaned back in his seat, spreading his arms wide over the sides for when his bitches came back and he could cop himself a feel. But now he was looking at me like he God sending down the Ten Commandments from on high to Moses. "Go find out"? Go find out what? Who was killing the girls?

"No prob," I told him, acting like I honored, backing away but keeping my eyes on him,"I'm a playa partner now, Jizzy."

Having backed up enough to be respectful, I turned around (getting me a good eyeful of the ass wiggling about on the table next to me) and headed towards the exit, followed by Jizzy's bodyguard.



The sun was rising as I stepped outside, and I took a moment to stretch out and yawn, and got a big surprise when I heard Jizzy's voice behind me.

"Wait up, Mr. C-to-the-Jay!" he rapped at me,"See that pretty young thang in my car?"



He turned to walk away as the bored looking ho in the passenger seat turned to look at me, then stopped and turned back,"And watch the rims, playa! Treat that baby like the Pope Mobile!"

I hopped in and started the car up, and instantly she reached out and switched on the radio to Master Sounds, sound blaring.

"DOING IT AFTER DARK! OOOOH YEAH! OOOOH YE-"

"Damn," I said, turning it right down,"It too early in the morning for that, girl."

She just rolled her eyes and turned to look out the other side of the car as I started driving, but then she turned back and cast a critical look at me, her professional eye picking up my physique underneath the horribly pimp suit.

"Ooh!" she giggled, suddenly interested,"What a strong pecho!"



"Yeah go on," I muttered, not caring, just wanting to get this errand done for Jizzy, get into his good books, get an in to the Loco Syndicate and find a way to bring them down.

"I'll do things your ruca won't!" she told me, her accent so thick it was a turn-off... plus, you know, she was a ho.

"I'm listening," I muttered,"...honest."

"Hey baby," she groaned, leaning over against me and running her finger up my arm,"I'm no slut but I need the feria."

"Uh huh," I grunted,"Real interesting."

"Whatever, puto!" she yelled, suddenly all her teasing moaning gone, her face hard in a second as she slumped back to her side of the car, then reached forward and deliberately jacked up the sound, looking straight at me daring me to say something or do something. I let it slide; I'd be dropping her off soon enough.




"Later, Ese," she growled at me as she got out of the car, her little skirt just looking cheap and stupid once she got out of the car and started walking towards the hotel. Something that looked sexy in a strip club at 4 in the morning did NOT look sexy at 7:30 in the morning out by a nice hotel. My phone started ringing and I scooped it out of my pocket, but then realized it wasn't my phone.... the car was ringing?

I looked around and realized Jizzy had a car phone, which was pretty cool. I picked it up, and Jizzy was on the other end, asking what was going on.

"I just dropped off your girl," I told him.

"Church!" he said, whatever the fuck that meant,"Got a little errand for you to run before you deal with that problem I was just talking about."



"One of my girls over there just eyeballed the punk," Jizzy told me, as I wondered how the fuck this skinny ass little bitch ever carved himself out a territory in the first place,"I want you to get your ass over there and ice that pretender!"

I started heading towards the area of Hashbury he said the other pimp had been in, and as I drove along in the ridiculous "Pimp Mobile" wearing my ridiculous outfit, I thought about pimps.

We all joked about "pimping" our rides and dressing up so we was "pimped" out. We cracked jokes about wearing big frilly hats and carry silver topped canes with platform shoes, bopping our way down the street high-fiving local business men and all that shit. But it was all a joke, none of it was serious, like you'd sometimes think about being some tough-ass commando soldier in Afghanistan fighting Russians or some shit. Yeah you joked about it but you didn't do it. There wasn't much lower than a pimp, wasn't much more pathetic. Some sorry son of a bitch who turned out women to fuck men, then took the money they earned? beat them around if they gave back lip, hooked his bitches on drugs to get them fucking more and more men. A pimp was a leech, a pimp was pathetic, a pimp was almost lower than a drug dealer, for fucks sake. Better for a woman to be a ho than a man to be a pimp, because that wasn't any kind of man, that was a parasite, a little squirming white-bellied limp thing that attached itself to something and took everything good and tossed it aside once it was used up.

Once I was done with the Loco Syndicate, I was going to burn this fucking suit.





The Pimp was something straight out of a fucking Blaxploitation movie, big fur coat, leather skin hat, all he missing a silver tipped cane. When I pulled up he was looming large over a thick-waisted whore getting past her best years, but not so bad that she could get away with getting smacked around. When he turned and saw me he pulled a piece and fired wild, maybe thinking to scare me off, but when I reacted by getting out the car all squared up, pulling my own piece and coming straight for him, he just turned and ran.

Pimps - vicious and brutal motherfuckers.... but to women and weak johns only. All of them were fucking cowards.





I braced and took my shot and I know I hit him, seeing him flinched, but he kept on running. Either adrenalin was keeping him moving or the fur coat was thick enough to hold back the bullet, but either was he wasn't down and that meant my job wasn't done. I ignored the screaming ho shouting at me to "kill him kill him motherfucker put hands on me kill him" and sprinted down the alley after him.



I stood over him, another dead pimp; I'd have felt bad for him except he'd never done anything with his life to deserve sympathy. Just another mean fuck wanting to put women to work for him, shot down dead in the street like a million before him.

No great loss.



"Worry," say Jizzy over the line with that sneering kind of 'I'm in total control' voice that I was already getting familiar with, as well as the way he talked, stopped, talked, stopped,"Did I say I was worried? No I did not. Now to the real deal. Some of my girls in the Foster Valley been getting knuckled over. I want you to get your ass up there and nose around - find out what's going on."

He hung up and I did the same, the ho standing next to the Pimp Mobile, what did she want?

"What?" I asked.

"Thanks for saving me," she said.

"Don't mention it," I said back, but she just kept standing there,"What?"

"Don't I gotta suck yo' cock or something?"

"Jesus," I said, and put the Pimpmobile into gear and drove away, heading for Foster Valley.





Jizzy had told me the two girls who were killed and had been dumped underneath the freeway, and I'd driven through as a shortcut to Foster Valley as well as giving me a chance to scope out where the bodies were dumped. What I hadn't expected was that the killer would be stupid enough to actually not only come back there as well, but come back with a live ho to kill THERE!



Jizzy was wrong, it wasn't someone trying to take control of his turf, wasn't someone trying to move in and establish dominance. It was just a couple of dumbass rednecks getting their rocks off beating up on hookers because they thought they had no one to defend them.

The ho - a big girl - struggled up to her feet, bruises and blood all over her from the beating she'd been taking when I arrived. She didn't say thanks, didn't turn and ask if she was supposed to suck my cock, just walked over and kicked one dead body in the face, then the other, then hopped into their creepy van and drove away without a look at me.

Good for her.



I hopped back into the Pimpmobile, feeling a little shitty over how banged up it was now. I might be doing good work for Jizzy, but if his car came back wrecked up he'd be pissed, and that was no way to get into his good books. The car phone was ringing as I hopped in, and even before I got a chance to give him the good news - that their were two more bodies but this time they weren't his hos - he was giving me the bad.



"That girl you dropped off Downtown wants out of the game!" he shouted at me, like it was my fault,"Her sugar daddy wants to take her off the streets! Nobody turns my hos! Now you get your ass back to the hotel, and you make an example out of all of 'em!"

He hung up, I hadn't even said a word, for all he knew I was a ho or one of the killers or even a fucking cop, but there he was blabbing his orders and giving away his secrets on the phone. Still, that was a good thing, it was why I'd targeted him instead of T-Bone - once I was in, he'd be sure to give me info on the Loco Syndicate, even if he didn't mean to.

In the meantime, though, I had to go stop some poor bitch from trying to make a better life for herself.




Shit, this sugar daddy was a REAL sugar daddy, pulling up in a stretch limo, bodyguards in a black Huntley behind it, laying it out in style for the ho coming sauntering out the hotel with her sugar daddy beside her and.... holy shit, the sugar daddy was a Preacher!



"Driver, get us out of here before the devil's right hand snatches this po'girl from salvation!" preached the Preacher, so loud and fired up I could hear him from my position down the street. This motherfucker was someone who evangelized while taking a shit and eating his breakfast in the morning.

The Stretch pulled away, the Huntley following close behind, and I gave them a few seconds before I pulled out after them, shaking my head. A preacher? Shit, I didn't want to kill no preacher, but then again... he was banging a hooker, so it wasn't like he was a real holy man, just one of what my Moms used to call a snake-oil salesman.

Hell, I figured as I floored the accelerator and passed the Huntley to draw alongside the Stretch, I'd be doing the world a favor.



"WE NEED MORE THAN JUST THE LORD'S BENEFACTION!" testified the Preacher, even over the sound of my piece blasting and the screeching of tires and revving of engines I could hear the motherfucker,"DON'T WORRY, GIRL, THE LORD'S ARMY WILL COME TO OUR AID!"

"God helps those who help themselves," I grunted.







"Oh, CJ, you's a playa's right hand, baby," say Jizzy over the line, sounding pleased, which is just what I wanted to hear, only then he said something I didn't want to hear, all matter of fact like,"Oh, and by the way - that car's just come up over on an APB. Dump it, keep it, whatever. Just keep it away from me, my hos, and my club!"

He hung up and I shook my head, hearing growing sirens in the distance. There was already a cop behind me, but he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, he'd hit the hoot of the Pimpmobile on his bike and gone flying through the air into the ground. Still, I didn't have much time to get clear, but at least now I was in Jizzy's good books and didn't have to explain how I'd fucked up his car.




"Hey Michelle, girl!" I called out as the garage door closed behind me and she popped her head out from the door leading in to her apartment,"Wassup?"

"CJ, what the hell kind of car are you.... what the fuck did you do to your ha.... what the fuck are you WEARING!?!" she asked me, getting more and more surprised with each thing she noticed.

"Baby," I grinned,"Can I ask you a BIG favor?"