'Please insert debit card' read the screen of the Wells Fargo ATM.

"Shanaynay, I need my debit card," Shane said, still nervous but now rather angry that his supposed girlfriend was holding a gun to his head. And so casually flipping it to and fro, at that. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly as they sat in the car. Apparently, as his captor put it, it was more private to use the drive-thru.

Shanaynay was already looking through his wallet. She pulled up several cards, tossing them over her shoulder when they weren't the Wells Fargo card. She paused to read one.

"'Buy two ice creams, get a third one free'?" she said, her eyebrow raised.

"What?" Shane asked innocently. "The lady at the Baskin Robbins offered me it."

"Ooh, shit! We'se gotta stop there on the way to the airport!" she bubbled excitedly.

"Who would the third cone be for?" Shane asked.

Shanaynay glared at him. "You callin' me fat?" she questioned.

"No, I'm just thinking that we might-"

"Look Shane, not everyone can have pretty hair and an anorexic body like yo whorish self, so don't be actin' like you's this month's hottest shit. Here's your card. Little Narcie…"

Shane stared forward disinterestedly, taking the card and putting it into the electronic slot. He entered his pin number, and a list of options came up. He selected 'Withdraw'.

'Please specify the amount you want to withdraw.'

He charged as much as he could to his credit card and completed the transaction.

"So is that three thousand?" Shanaynay asked.

"Shanaynay, you do know most ATMs won't let you withdraw more then five hundred dollars a day, right?"

"What?" she gasped in surprise. "Why the hell is that the limit?"

Shane rolled his eyes. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe for situations like this?"

Shanaynay was not happy with this impediment. "Son of a bitch! Now what?" As she was thinking, she seemed to realize something. She squinted at her hostage. "Wait. Was you gonna drive on outta here lettin' me think there was three grand on that card if I hadn't asked?"

Shane glanced from side to side. "Psshh… No…" he said nervously.

"Don't lie."

"I'm not! But I seriously think we should just stop this whole thing right now-"

The car behind them honked.

Shanaynay leaned her head out the window. "There is a motherfuckin' situation up here and it is our turn!" she shouted. "Hold your goddamn horses or I'll hold them for you, and I swear to God I'll use your balls as the reins!" She waved her gun up and down for the driver to see.

The mom in the car, driving her kids home from a soccer game, backed up quickly (smashing into another car while doing so) and sped away down the street.

She pulled back into the passenger seat. "Well, I guess you'll have to go in and get the money."

"The security cameras just saw you and your gun," Shane pointed out.

Shanaynay got a look of puzzlement on her face. "Damn," she murmured, "I'm fuckin' up worse then Christina Aguilera singin' the national anthem." She sighed and put a pair of brown pantyhose—that, evidently, she had been prepared with—on her head. She also pulled up a large shopping bag from under the seat. "Alright, I'll be right back."

"Wait, where are you going?" Shane asked as she hopped out of the car and ran towards the bank's entrance. He was getting a bad feeling from the seemingly familiar scene. As he listened, he heard gunshots, screaming, an alarm going off, and glass shattering. Suddenly, voices were in his head.

"Oop, can you pull over to 7-11?"

"You don't want a Zima or sumthin'?"

"Naw, you lyin'. That's too many fucking words for three letters, mm-mm."

"I don't want to go back to jail!" Shane cried. He stomped the gas pedal. The car lurched forward- and hit a figure running out in front of it. He slammed on the brakes in the same instant.

Shanaynay's flustered, glass-and-blood covered face popped up in front of the hood. "What the HELL you doin'?" she screamed. She stumbled over to the passenger side door—carrying the filled grocery bag—and jumped in.

"Gogogogofuckergo!" she yelled.

Shane sped forward with a panicked expression on his face. Skidmarks stained the drive-thru. It was, unfortunately, not the first time he had been a crime scene getaway driver.

"Whoo!" Shanaynay whooped. "Come outta there shit-hot, and you just about turn me into into a fuckin' roadsalt pancake!" She shook her head like Shane was the one at fault. "Anyway, check this red out!" Hauling the bag onto the center console, she and Shane looked at the sum inside.

"I think I took 'bout five G, so we'se got some walkin' around money!"

Shane just stared at Shanaynay's face.

"Da fuck you lookin' at?" she asked.

"The…glass…"

"Oh! Yeah! You ain't gonna believe this! They had this big-ass bar operated by some button that goes across the door during a robbery. There weren't no way I was movin' that fucker. So I had to jump out the damn window! Pissed me off so much, I had a mind to shoot that bitch behind the counter."

"No…I-In your face…"

"What about my face?" She pulled down the passenger vanity mirror and saw the damage the glass had done to her purrty hair and face.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH-"

Two hours later…

"I swear, you can offer me crack, crystal, heroin, any drug you want, and I still won't go down on you if money's not involved," Shanaynay said through a mouthful of ice cream. "But offer me some pralines n' cream and my knees will hit the ground no questions asked." Her face was covered in Band-Aids, though Shane wasn't sure that this was the most effective way to stop the bleeding. And considering that some pieces of glass were still embedded, and Shanaynay refused to go to the hospital because she was in the middle of kidnapping him, there was a good chance it wasn't going to heal properly.

"Oh, it's not the worst thing that's ever happened to me," she had said. And actually, it wasn't. Shane had seen a bullet hole blown through her arm, and she had still been walking and talking just fine, although it was someone in her family that shot her. Hell, she even had a hole through the back of her head, something he had found out due to a mishearing of a sexual innuendo.

In the back of the car were new suitcases filled with new clothes and personal hygiene products. (Wal-Mart was truly kick-ass.) Shanaynay was even able to get her passport picture taken there. She commented on how it looked just like her mug shot, right down to the bloody hair and Band-Aid head wrap. They had almost walked out the door with no troubles when she then decided to make fun of the entrance greeter's cerebral palsy by saying he looked like a frozen Michael Jackson Thriller dancer. Shane had to hurry her out of the building.

He wasn't sure if he had much choice in the matter, but going to Germany now seemed less of a huge burden since everything was in order, granted the money was illegally obtained. This, coupled with the fact that if he resisted, he might actually die, had made him warm up to the idea a little more. And, well… It was a vacation. What worried him is if Shanaynay had any idea of what to do.

"Shanaynay, do you know anything about Germany?" he asked.

"Course I do! I watched Taken. All I gotta do is not forget my stuff at the airport, not develop amnesia, and avoid crazy taxi driver bitches that don't know how to drive for jackshit."

He sighed. "Do you even know when the next flight to Germany is?"

His girlfriend was busy reapplying her third eyebrow. "Hmm?" she murmured. "Oh. I don't know. I figured just hop on the next plane goin' there. It shouldn't be too hard. As long as we don't have one of those first-time ticketing agent sluts that don't know anything besides that by-the-book bullshit."

Shane sighed. "So you haven't even thought this through?"

"Look, Shane, it may have been a split-second decision, but I know it was the right one. Killing yo aunt is all that matters at this point. You know what I'm sayin'?"

"I can't…can't say I do."

Shanaynay pulled out a salon board and started filing her nails. "Well, that just goes to show how much you know 'bout takin' the initiative and not letting others control your life."

"You held a gun to my head, I hardly think there was a choice as to whether I listen to you or not!"

"True," Shanaynay admitted. "But Shane, it's more than just takin' down Aunt Hilda."

"Well you might as well explain, because I really don't want to be kidnapped, dragged to a foreign country, have my personal savings spent and two of my family members killed for no good reason."

Shanaynay's eyes widened. "Really? I wouldn't want that for any reason."

Shane stared at her.

"Jus' sayin'. But Shane, the truth is, my life's been gettin' kinda boring. Everyday it's the same old ghetto scene: wake up, go to work at some job I know I'll lose that same day, mug a pedestrian, smoke some funny-ass shit in the church's presbytery and stare at the resulting hallucinations of Johnny Depp's head on Jesus' body…"

Shane knitted his eyebrows at this image.

"And then repeat," Shanaynay concluded. "Now sure, it's fine and all if you're used to it- I mean, I was brought up in the alleyways, so I'm practically a part of the hood- but it gets boring after a while."

"You call life-threatening boring?"

Shanaynay gave him a look. "Shane, let pussies speak for themselves! I ain't no scurred-ass little bitchbaby. Look, my point is, I want a vacation. When I come back, I'll have had a break from it all, and finally be able to smile with pride and disgust at the renewed vision of the shithole I live in."

"Wow." Shane remarked. "I can see it now."

"I know. Pretty damn noble, huh?"

"No. I mean I can see the airport already."

Out the window was Los Angeles International Airport, with huge planes landing and taking off and a steady flow of traffic heading to and from the air station.

"I think we turn onto South Sepulveda…right?" Shane was asking.

But Shanaynay wasn't listening- her mind was imagining the look on Aunt Hilda's face when she showed up in Germany with a gun pointed at her ugly, sneering head.

Your ass is mine.


"What the hell's takin' so long?" Shanaynay whined.

They had just gotten through the Customs and baggage/body search lines (at which a guard seemed to search Shanaynay a little too thoroughly) and were waiting to see if they could board the United Airlines Flight 8900 to Frankfurt. Of course, the ghetto woman had to ditch her gun; however, she had warned him about the one surgically implanted in her neck and how all she had to do was point and laugh. He wondered if she ever had to clean it.

Up ahead at the ticketing agent's desk, a Chinese man was complaining about why he wasn't allowed on his flight. It seemed that he had been randomly selected for additional screening. This dilemma was holding up the line.

"Fack you bic boi!" he yelled at the lady working the reception desk.

"Sir, if you would please calm down-"

"You calm down! I don't want to hear dis bulla-shit abough duh extra butt search cavity or whatevah iss call, I pay for my ticket and I go on flight! Can I get duh someBOAD-DEE to be my witnehs today?"

"Security!" the woman called. Airport security guards in white uniforms apprehended the man from behind the arms.

"FACK YOUR MADOR! FACK YOU BIC BOIIIIII!" he cussed as he was dragged away.

"Hey, Shanaynay," Shane spoke up, "did that guy kind of sound like-"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Shane."

"But on YouTube-"

"He don't have nearly as many subscribers as us. It's nothin'."

Shane thought about it a moment longer and shrugged it off, getting the strangest feeling of wanting to call the Wal-Mart they had been at and complain about condoms.

After about fifteen minutes they were finally at the counter.

"Two tickets for the 8900 to Frankfurt," Shane requested.

"First class, too, none that crying baby coach crap for us," Shanaynay added.

"Let me check to see if we have seats available," said the woman with a cheerful smile and a hint of misery. She started typing something on her terminal.

Shanaynay raised her two left eyebrows. "Girl, you been lettin' people on all before us without typing anything in on your computer. What gives?"

She looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry. Due to recently issued protocol, all ticketing kiosks must now check to make sure first-class is completely booked before they allow secondary-class individuals to fill out any remaining seats."

The ghetto woman's eye twitched. "What do you mean, 'secondary-class individuals'?"

The agent blinked. "Oh, you know. People who don't exactly represent the qualities of a first-class patron."

Shane could see the rage building in his girlfriend's glaring eyes.

"Shanaynay…"

"You outta your damn mind? What the hell kinda protocol is this?"

"It's more of a personal one than a standard one," the lady answered.

"Bitch I show you personal!" Shanaynay shouted. She reached forward to strangle the woman, but Shane got in her way and tried to hold her back.

He turned his head to look at the woman. "Two for Economy is fine," he said in a quick, strained voice.

The woman, still smiling, handed him two tickets. "Enjoy your flight."

"Burn in hell, you plastic-faced fuckwit!" Shanaynay snarled.

Shane hauled her out of line and around the corner of the entrance to the boarding bridge. "Shanaynay, it's done, it's done!" he told her. "Look, I got the tickets, we can get on."

"That bitch knew, she knew what woulda happened!"

"At least it wasn't by the book."

"No, it was by my ass!"

"Yeah, sure. Let's go."

They walked through the gray tunnel, the little lights overhead casting their shadows on the plastic floor. Shanaynay flipped her hair back and readjusted her jean jacket. "Damn. Don't know why the acronym for this place is LAX 'cause that is the LAST thing I am right now!"

"Tell me about it," Shane muttered.

They found their seats easy enough, and he said a silent prayer of thanks that they weren't by any kids or fat people. He didn't know if his girlfriend would be able to keep her cool much longer. He sat by the window and Shanaynay filed in next to him, talking to herself about plans she was making to kill Aunt Hilda.

Disregarding all the threats was becoming more difficult. Shane realized that she had been thinking about killing Hilda this whole time, and hadn't been distracted by anything else. It was unusual for Shanaynay to stay so focused on getting revenge, and having brought it this far, he began to fear she wasn't going to give up. All he could do was hope that once they got into Germany, she would forget everything about vengeance and just spend a week doing whatever the hell she wanted to do for vacation. Oh, God… What did she want to do? Best not to think about it.

"Hey! Peanuts!" Shanaynay said, picking up a package by her seat. She put a few in her mouth and started chewing noisily, but stopped after a few moments. She put her fingers up to her mouth. "Ugh…" Pulling something out, she stared at what she clutched. "…A pubic hair? How is that even possible? This was an unopened bag!"

Shane turned to look out the window, and saw the sun was already going down. The city smog gave the sky a purpled haze covering. Today was pretty unbelievable, but tomorrow was going to be even more hectic. Wait, what time would it be tomorrow? Just how many laws would Shanaynay break in Germany? And how would they explain themselves if they got in trouble? Did she even know where Aunt Hilda was? Wait a minute- Neither of them spoke German!

Ah, screw it.

He closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

"Goodnight, Shane," he heard Shanaynay whisper to him.

"'Night."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite."

He listened to the plane's engines starting up.

"'Cause if you do, somethin' pretty damn nasty's gonna happen to yo dick."

What will happen when they get to Germany? You're guess is as good as mine without some feedback, so leave me a comment on how I'm doing!