The ten digits stared back at him.“Fuck,” he said, taking a sip of a beer.Clarissa had nearly begged him to call (“I can’t believe it! You hav... a real Sugar Daddy!”). And it was tempting, and flattering. And though the thousand dollar tip was generous, it also left Carson feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he felt used and dirty, like a whore. On the other hand, he liked it--being Mr. Armisen’s dirty little whore.But the idea of seeing him outside the hotel was a whole other ordeal. Carson. I checked my prisoners. They were huddled together for warmth and looking very pathetic. Quite different from how they'd looked when they had me cornered in the alley. I pissed off my goon by NP-prodding him several times. He was going to get some work soon and I wanted him to be in the right mood.I got out of my nice, warm sleeping bag. It was a brisk morning, so I put a heat blob over me while I floated to one of the bags of food I had suspended from the branches around me (there are enough. More

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