Hooker in a Hotel: Urban Fantasy

The zebra stripes undulated through the wilderness. They skirted behind palm fronds and over stone. Finally, she emerged into the open: a blonde-haired woman wearing thigh-high zebra hide boots. The potted plants behind her sighed, as if they regretted losing the illusion of the jungle that they had never known. She sashayed into the center of the hotel lobby as if it was her kingdom, a jungle kingdom, and she the queen of it. The doorman rolled his eyes. He knew her game; he'd seen it often enough. The young lady behind the counter looked up, and a wild, staring fear hardened in her eyes, like a rabbit that sees the hawk stooping to grab it, but is unable to run. The woman sauntered up to a man sitting in the hotel chair and idly ran her fingers over his back. He jumped. It was a completely understandable reaction, the doorman thought. He'd jumped the first time that she'd extended her tendrils to brush against the buttons of his uniform. She, and she alone, was the reason that they'd lost a quarter of their clientele since she started appearing. Some businessmen seemed to enjoy the little thrill. Their wives could hardly complain; after all, better a dead hooker than a live one, right?

Inspiration: CD cover showing a lion eating a zebra.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: At first I thought not high potential, but I dunno...a humorous twist to this one could be good. Why am I being drawn to ghost stories? This might also tie in well with that other exercise I had about an Ultimate BadassTM walking up to a hotel....