A pimp named Cool Weather

Curtis Mayweather, who also went by Cool Weather Curtis, was sitting in his newly coated, green Cadillac reading the bible of all Pimps.

[Pimp: The Story of My Life - Iceberg Slim]

He always did like reading as a child and he was glad he could educate himself while waiting for the drop.

A pimp must be mean because these streets were mean and he grew up in the meanest streets of them all; Harlem. Those streets were meaner than his crackhead mother, meaner than the step dad who smashed his head with a baseball bat and just sometimes meaner than the Five-O.

It was kill or be killed.

Pimp or be pimped.

He had to be mean so others couldn’t be mean to him.

Life was unfair like that for a poor black man living in the drug infested crack dens of deeper Harlem.

As is the case of anything, with obstacles came opportunity and where others found it impossible to survive, Curtis thrived.

He first began slinging crack using his mother’s dealer as a contact. Once he made enough money he hired his step father as muscle to protect the merchandise.The same police who fucked with him as a kid now worked for him.

‘Well worked for the Kingpin!’ but that’s the same thing now, he was part of the crew now.

Something that was now at jeopardy because of that dumb bitch lily.

‘Never trust southern hoes, they fuck up everything’ he recalled the words of his mentor ‘Dirty Harry’.

Harry pulled him out of gangbanging and introduced him to the pimping. Dirty harry was arrested for ‘Human trafficking’ or whatever term the white people invented. 'Funny though' he thought 'White people were the original 'Human Traffickers'

How could it be trafficking if they wanted to be with him, if they wanted to be his main bitch. He never could understand that. What he did understand was that the new District Attorney Mike Pondsmith had a hard-on for saving these hoes.

Cops were like flies on shit in Harlem arresting any pimps they could grab.Shit was sad but as Curtis's motto said 'Problems were the mother of opportunity'

So he reached out and proposed a deal to the Kingpin of Manhattan himself, Wilson Fisk.

Push H using his hoes and act as drops for various drug deals!

Well they wouldn't push it directly but it would greatly improve Fisk's distribution.

The Kingpin, impressed with his balls and planning, decided to give him a shot.

It was all going smoothly, the big man even arranged rooms in a hotel where his bitches could work, away from the prying eyes of the new DA.

For some time, this new change in scenery worked perfectly. His girls would dress up in expensive clothes (Courtesy of Fisk) that made them look unsuspecting.

It was a great way to distribute the product to the street.

No one batted an eye when it was a beautiful woman.

Drugs out of the expensive wool coats and stuffing rolls of money inside.

Naturally he would get a cut from this while his hoes got a place to sleep and food to eat. Not to mention, wearing the cashmere which they seemed to love more than anything else.This also helped in charging more from the clientele. The Kingpin even threw some clients his way!

A perfect Win-Win.

The perfect hustle by the perfect player.

The idea came to him when he decided to use his past employment as a gangbanger and combine it with his current one. He had fourteen bitches all working at the same time. ‘A stable of bitches’ as his mentor once eloquently put it. All of them loyal to him, he made sure to routinely keep them in check.

He caught one of them stealing once, he made such an example out of her that they never dared cross him again. He thought of himself as their god, a deity to be worshiped and feared.

Harlem was red hot right now. It was a storm he had to weather.

Under the protection of New York's most important player though, Cool Weather Curtis felt comfortable.

He was working his way up through New York. Eventually he would take his rightful place as one of its most powerful. Life was good.

It was going perfect until one of his newer hoes fucked it all up. Lily ran away from the hospital the next day and started working for him the very same. Her lips and teeth were fucked up but nothing that a little bit of makeup couldn’t fix.

Truthfully he wanted to beat the living shit out of her at the hospital when he heard what happened.

Risking all of his careful plans.

She should have just stayed quiet and let the men have their way with her. That was probably what was going to happen, instead some old good fucking Samaritan decided to jump in and save his hoe. Thinking about it made his teeth grind.

‘Why does life keep trying to fuck me!.’ He thought with his one hand tightening grip on the car’s gear stick, his other hand on the book.

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Now, he had to pay the big man out of his own pocket. That wasn't the worst part though, The worst part was that if this incident went public then his days pimping were numbered. Wilson Fisk was not the kind of man to let problems become 'Public'. Still tightly holding the gear stick, he felt his anger rise.

Only calming down when he finally saw one of his older hoe’s, Lan. She was older and was leased out to him by Harry but he knew that now he had the bitches soul. She would do years of jail time for him.

Out of all the bitches in his stable, he felt he could trust her the most but only a sucker trusts a hoe completely. The Chinese-Vietnamese half-bred hoe was his main bitch, the one who kept the others in line! She was the only one who brought him food when he was in his car and she was the only one who could handle the scratch. Lan was in charge of collecting from the girls and handing it directly to him. She would always service him in the car and he felt like he needed to be serviced now.

She approached the passengers side of the car and knocked twice.

He didn’t bother looking at her, she opened the car and made herself comfortable. He put the book down and turned to her.

“Lan baby you look good in that wool.”

“Thank you daddy!” she said rather dryly.

“What did you get me sweetheart?”

She slid a brown paper bag to him, it was some fries and a burger but what interested him more was the contents that were deeper in the bag.

A roll of dirty Benjamins.

“This all?” he asked

“The girls are working hard, daddy!” He knew that she was telling the truth, in fact he was comfortable with making half what he made now but a pimp should always keep his hoes on their feet. That was the first lesson he learned from his mentor.

“How about Lily?”

“I don’t know what you said, but she’s sucking cock like a vacuum cleaner. She won’t stop asking for more.”

He was glad she was making it up. His threats of harming the old man worked and the country bumpkin did as she was told.

They were so easy.

In reality he wouldn’t do jack to the man because first it could attract unwanted attention and that was the last thing he needed now and secondly the man took on four henchmen by himself, Cool Weather Curtis was many things but a fighter he wasn’t. His stepfather had long gone to jail, so he couldn’t use him. He really was all by himself. Gunning down a civilian would bring crazy heat. The kind that would have him killed. So technically he couldn’t do jack shit to the man even if he wanted to but these hoes don’t need to know that!

‘They were easy like that.’ he thought with a pleased look.

“I’m glad that I don’t have to beat her again. I really don’t want to hurt you girls, I love you all but sometimes a bitch needs to be put in her place.” he said with iciness.

“I know baby, I know. Let Lan make it all go away!” She slid her head down to his legs, unzipped his pants with her mouth and did what she did best.

‘They’re so fucking easy’ he put his hands on her head as it began bobbing.

Even though there was a slight hiccup, he still had it all figured out. Once enough time passes and he has enough hoes, he would completely insulate himself from the street. That was always the plan, he wouldn't end up like his mentor. Broke and Bitchless!

This was a cardinal sin of being a pimp but he needed to protect himself and eventually make himself an invaluable ally to Fisk. In a few years, maybe an expansion into Harlem and maybe after a decade, a political career.

The biggest pimps of them all!

He climaxed just at the thought of his bright future. Lan choked for a second but like any good hoe swallowed it at the end. He taught his hoes that no man wanted to feel like his load wasn’t worthy of a hooker's mouth!

She pulled her head up and he zipped his pants. Lan might be an old dog but her tricks were timeless.

She looked at him with anticipation, he couldn’t help but give her a side eye. Only relenting when she started pleading with her eyes. He slid her the white plastic sachet.

“Don’t shoot it all up today, this is some new shit. You know the shit Fisk puts out is ten times fucking purer than the garbage we got back home.”

She nodded her little head and said, “You know me daddy, I won't. I promise!”

To which he nodded once. No more communication was needed as she got out of the car and proceed to make her way back to the hotel. He knew she wouldn’t shoot it all up but a pimp always reminded his bitch’s who’s boss.

That's why he always dressed in the obnoxious white suit and wore the diamond Rolex. Why he rode in the flashiest ride. He always felt it was stupid to put that much attention on himself but once again he was educated by his mentor Harry.

‘We do it for the hoes.’ Harry said

The truth was that pimps didn’t do it to stand out but it was to keep their hoes wanting them more.

Hoe’s Loved that shit, he didn’t know why but all first but then realized the true meaning of his mentor’s words.

A pimp who was loaded was a pimp who didn’t need his hoes but they needed him more than anything.

This made them crave for his attention, they would love him with all their hearts.

'A Broke pimp was a No Pimp. All his hoes gonna leave him for a real pimp.' said Big Daddy Caine, one of the other older pimps who showed him the ropes.

Without his fancy cars and watches, he could beat every one of his hoe’s and they wouldn’t listen to a word he said. He needed their respect, fear and love to make them do his bidding.

That's just the natural way of things.

He watched Lan's figure strut away as the cold winter wind blew. She kept shuddering as she made her way, the heels and the miniskirt didn't help keep the draft from making her cold but what was she gonna do about it.

He looked at his Rolex, it was getting late. He had a meeting with the big man himself tomorrow.

He looked at the cold fries and burger, might as well as dig in before he went home to his luxury condo in Hell's Kitchen (Sponsored by, you guessed it, the Kingpin).

He reached for the fries first when THUD

He jerked his head back to see what hit his car.

‘What was that sound?’ He kept staring behind to see who or what made the sound.

When- CRASH

Something broke through his window shattering the glass, some of it getting in his eyes blinding him. He thought it was a gunshot at first but he caught a glimpse of it shattering the other window too, it was a stone.

‘What the Fuck, who the fuc’ his hand went for his gun but just as he was about to unholster it…..he felt the grip of a man holding the top his head. He never felt anything like it. He couldn’t even turn his head to see who his assailant was! The hand held his head like a tight vice, the man's fingernails digging deep into his scalp.

"Who are yoo?" he said in a pained voice but there was no answer, only silence.

"Answer me you fuckin-"

Before he could finish…….Smash. Smash. Smash.

The man rammed his head into the steering wheel again and again. He wanted to scream for help but the pain was too much. His eyes hurt, his nose was broken and bloody and his head concussed. Each time the man rammed his head to the steering wheel, he felt his skull crack little by little. When he tried to force his throat to make a sound the man’s other hand gripped his throat and proceeded to choke him out. He coughed out blood, air wasn’t going in.

He could feel his consciousness slowly fading away.

As his vision became bleaker by the second and head heavier. One of the last things he felt before he blacked out was not fear or anger at the attacker but it was simply hunger.

Funnily enough now more than anything, he just wanted to eat some fries.

‘A hot meal before he croaked’ he thought himself with a small smile

He remembered his momma's mac and cheese, whatever happened to her anyways.

Then Darkness.