This next scene depicted another argument. This time it was between Mimi and her boss. She had found a witnessing job and had been living in her apartment for about a year. Living alone with a full-time job seemed a bit much for a sixteen-year-old, but this was the life Mimi knew.

The living arrangement, however, was starting to get crazy--even for Mimi. With no license, she had only public transportation available, and she was often late for work. She could barely pay her rent and never had enough to eat. Her job didn't pay well enough, and her tips her always reserved as unofficial "drug money." She needed a change.

Thus, the argument being shown. Mimi had asked for a raise, and her boss refused, stating that Mimi was always late and that her work wasn't up to par. Mimi had been fired that day.

She would have to find a new job and a cheaper apartment--but who the hell would hire a sixteen-year-old, crack head, high-school dropout?! (Mimi could only fit school into her life for so long and had recently dropped out. She managed to get through a few months of junior year by taking some night classes, but it was all too much now.)

Not knowing what to do, Mimi began wandering aimlessly around the city and soon stumbled into the answer to who would hire her.

She was slowly meandering her way down a street when…SMACK!…she walked right into a door that had been swung open just seconds before she reached it. Confused and in pain, she looked up. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" the man who had obviously opened the door asked hastily. "Uh, yeah, I guess," Mimi answered slowly. Still lying on the sidewalk, she looked up at the door of the shabby building. It had a big paw print on it. Where was she?

"Why don't you come in and sit down for a sec?" the man asked, helping Mimi to her feet. She nodded and walked inside with him. She immediately realized that she was in some kind of night club. The interior of this building was surprisingly nice. There was a bar in the back, scattered tables and chairs, and a small stage-like platform in the middle of a large dance floor, among other paraphernalia. It looked slightly odd, as it was daytime, but Mimi guessed that the club came to life at night.

"Are you sure you're alright?" the man asked again. Mimi nodded. "Well, I'm Logan Green, owner of the Cat Scratch Club. I was just going outside to put up a 'Help Wanted' sign. You know, you look like a dancer…" He was obviously looking for her name. "Mimi Marquez," she completed, "and, yeah, I dance a little. Why?" "Well, that's what the sign was for. We're looking for a regular dancer here at the club, four nights a week. It pays fairly well and our members are generally good tippers--if they've been…uh…entertained."

Everything was happening so fast, and it almost sounded too good to be true. Better money, a nice boss, only four days a week (so she might be able to go back to high school); plus, Mimi had always loved dancing. She quickly agreed to take the job.

"Okay, Mimi, I'm gonna have to ask you to come back for an audition. Oh, and it's good to have a gimmick--the wilder, the better. Can you come back tomorrow?" asked Logan. "Yeah, that sounds great," Mimi replied genuinely. "We haven't exactly had a lot of applicants since we've had an opening, so don't sweat it. Oh, and Mimi, how old are you?" "Uh, seventeen," Mimi lied. Seventeen sounded way older than sixteen, she figured. "Oh…well…I usually don't hire minors, but it should be okay as long as you have a parent or guardian sign this." Logan handed Mimi what looked like a long contract. Aha, the catch. She would have to get her mother's approval to become an exotic dancer.

The argument between Mimi and her boss ceased, and the square shot through the tunnel again, as though it was following her thoughts.