I smacked my lip glossed up lips, tapping my long, Italian nails on the table at the same time. My spray tanned hand rested on my Juicy Couture purse, it's unnatural color beautiful. Where was I? Some of you dumb bitches don't know who I am. Well, bitches, my name is Bianca. It's sexy, I know, right? But my family uses my 'proper name' (Like those exist, boo), New Jersey. I liked the sexy name better.

Oh right, where am I to those dumb bitches? My wonderful ass was in jail. Yep, prison, jail, the pokey, big house. You know, where the popo is. And those shankers. Damn. Gets me all surprised and shit. Wanna know how I got here?

Hold your goddamn horses, I'm gettin' to that.

I was drivin along in my beautiful cherry red Lamborghini, also known as my baby, to hang with the bitches. Or rather, besties. Anyways, I was all pumped 'cause we were goin' to Jersey's hottest dance club! I pulled up to mah besty, Mia's house, and she was waitin with her bf Stefi. I honked my horn, cause they were… Busy.

She rushed out, pullin up her hot as hell cocktail dress, and I'm all, "Mia, darling!" And so we hugged.

"Bianca!" She squealed back to me. "Ready to get goin?"

"Hell yeah! Let's go, mah bitches!" Stefi crowded up behind her. I gave him a if-you-call-me-a-bitch-I-will-kill-you smile, and we all got into mah baby.

"Bibi, we have to stop somewhere." Mia instructed, smacking her lips with a new lip-gloss layer.

"Kay-Kay Mimi. Omg, is that new tan?" Mia nodded. "It looks wonderful on you!" I joyfully squealed.

We drove about for a while, since baby needs a good run every once in a while. Mia programmed my GPS to lead us to some yucky old rapist, back-alley 'establishment' that lacked a sign in front. Fear pricked at my fingertips. "Uh, Mia? What're we doin' here?"

"Buyin' fake IDs. Come on." Mia flashed me a bitch-trust-me smile, and I nervously abandoned mah baby.

We hurried up, and got into the smelly, dim shop. "Trust me, he comes highly recommended." Mia told me.

No way! That's a lie. The man behind the clerk had a bigger muffin top than Santa Claus, maybe two strands of greasy, black hair, and stubble. He looked like my godfather after a heavy night of drinkin', except my godfather has auburn hair, and a full head of it too!

He beckoned us closer, with a grin. Five teeth. Jesus, no. Nope, nope, nope, nope! "Mia?" His voice sounded like nails on a blackboard. We came up, and he took our photos in the back. Mia flashed him an award-winnin' smile, and Stefi gave him a pout. I just relaxed my face, as if I was givin' a mugshot. Might as well.

He was quick to finish. Little too quick. As we exited, I hinted, "The Mafia could've done betta. I know a guy or two. Mia rolled her eyes, and we all got back into mah baby.

We drove on, until we got to the club, Fiasco. Flame colored lighting illuminated the exterior. We walked up to the bouncer. I pulled out my best flirtatiousness, until he said, "Ma'am, I need an ID, not a pole dancer." I sighed, and removed my ID.

He examined it. "Is this ID fake?" He demanded.

I looked at Mia. She stiffened, and waved her hands at me. "Er, yes!" I tittered nervously.

The bouncer gestured to security, and pointed at me. One of the burly guards grabbed my arm! "Hey! Lemme go, bastard!" I shrieked. He started to drag me towards a police car. I shrieked even louder, "Lemme go! I need my baby! How dare you! Accidenti a te! Merda! Merda! Dammit, I'll tell my Daddy! My godfather is in the mafia! Fanculo, ti ammazzo io!"

He shoved me in the car. "Hope your daddy can pay up."

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And so, I'm sittin' in this goddamn chair, which really hurts my hot as hell ass. My daddy is gonna tell those damn popo! He's gon be all, "Yo, no more puttin' my lil girl in jail!"

But no. He grabs me by the wrist, and drags me back to the car. I'm seriously ready to say, "ADIOS BITCH-ACHOS!" But no. I'm in trouble, so I ain't doin' nothin' to mess up my chances of gettin' a get out of jail free card.

He opens the door to mah baby, but not the drivers. The passengers. I groan. I know where this is goin'. "Stahp bein' a whore, Jersey." That's my usual lecture.

I climb in, and pet the leather seats. Perfection. As soon as we've started to drive, Daddy groans. "New Jersey, this is the sixth time this month I've had to bail you out. This is terrible for your image! And if you don't care about that, it's terrible for your image, it's terrible for our economy to be taking money to get your ass at of prison!"

"But Daddy! Mia made me!" I whined, tugging on the arm that was face-palming.

"Don't call me that." He growled. I pouted, making my lower lip quiver, like it did before I cried.

"So… What're you goin' to do?" I asked, trying to be challenging, but my puppy dog eyes betrayed that. No way he would be able to resist these smoldering bars of gold. He sent me a bitch-plz look, and I stopped. "Daddy, it's not my fault that Mia doesn't know where to get fake IDs!" I protested. He removed the keys.

"No car. For a month." He said quickly.

I heard, "Bitch, watch me murder you and feed you to Satan!"

No one, and I repeat no one takes away my baby.

"B-Bianca?" He stammered nervous.

A smile spread across my face.

"Nessuna possibilità."

Quick question… Where do you hide a body?