Adrian Blackwood

Yelena watched as the owner of the car went inside the store no doubt to buy some sort of IPA. She times her walk perfectly to pick the man’s pocket and grab his keys. That was the easy part.

“We’re not far from the island,” Yelena called out, now trying to get a reluctant Fanny into the car. “Fanny. What’s wrong? Does the car smell like douchebag? It’s just for a little bit. Just get in.”

After getting behind the wheel and staring the “car” Yelena made a face. “This is just disgusting.”