Character Exercise 3

The Street Child:
He was hungry. His stomach growled with such ferocity, if he was any younger he would have believed the monster inside to be trying to get out, clawing at the lining of his stomach and gnashing sharp razorblade teeth at his insides. On a breeze was carried the sharp smoky smell of the hot dog stand across the street. He perked up and jumped off the high pedestal of his wall, and headed over.
“Can I have a hotdog?” asked the hungry boy.
“Three fifty,” replied the man, picking up a steaming piece of meet with tongs.
“I don’ have any money,” replied the boy.
“Well you can’t just have food for free, kid. This is the real world. Go ask your mommy to make you macaroni or something.”
The boy wanted to scream he didn’t have parents. Atleast not really. His mother had once again forgotten to feed him because she was too caught up with one of the guys she brought home, and he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.

A professional Dancer:
“Hey honey, wanna come home wit’ me tonight?” asked the dark haired man in the front row, brandishing a few twenties. She walked towards him provocatively, and bent down, her cleavage at his eye-level, giving him a taste of something he wouldn’t get.
“I don’t do that, love, but if you walk outside I’m sure you’d find someone a little more willing on any street corner. Now let me dance for you.” Her voice was smooth as cream and rang like bells in the dark of the club. She unfurled her scarf from around her neck, and tossed it onto the stage, rippling satin floating on the air. She hummed to herself a song she’d heard so many times at the ballet dance studio as she moved.

Clerk at an X-Rated Movie Theatre:
“One ticket please,” he said.
“That’ll be five-fifty, sir,” Arthur replied, “Is she coming in with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll have to buy two. That’ll be eleven dollars, sir,” he informed the man.
"You mean I have to pay for her too?” he asked, motioning to the scantily dressed hooker he entered with. He started getting angry. When Arthur nodded in reply, he shouted, “You mean to say, I have to pay five dollars and fifty cents for her on top of the one hundred fifty she’s getting for the night?”
“I’m sorry sir, but that’s the way it goes. Everyone pays five fifty, and your one hundred and fifty is really none of my business,” he said politely even though he was getting impatient. He wanted to see what happens to Lois Lane. Personally, he didn’t like the bitch. She was whiny, and always got into trouble. It would almost be a good thing if she croaked, because then Superman wouldn’t have to worry about saving her ass every other day. He could save more people in the city. The man handed him a crisp twenty dollar bill, and stormed into the theatre. Plus, Clark Kent was always trying to get her attention, but only as Superman was he noticed by her. Pathetic.
He settled into his seat and continued reading.