"But... How... This is illegal!" I cry, reaching out to grab... ugh, I can't think about it. "How could you guys steal the f-" 

Mr. Washing-is-not-necessary-when-I-live-in-a-sewer-so-quit-judging-me slaps his nasty hand over my mouth again. I swear I will be able to taste his hand until I graduate college. Not sure when that will ever happen, though. I only slkipped third and fourth grade. And passed fifth. And sixth.

"Don't say it!" he hisses, and Billy and his goonies murmur their agreement. He looks around frantically. "Nobody knows who might be watching."

I roll my eyes. Does he realize he's talking to a girl who can sense another person's presence within a 403 mile range when she feels like it?

Stupid.

One of the scruffy haired dudes in the back of the room calls out to Billy.

"Why'd you bring that hoe here?" He complains. "She'll just call the f#&cin! po-po on us and get us sent to jail." He says the word as if its a filthy curse.

Billy shifts uncomfortably. "Well, Peter, I just thought she might be a good addition to the gang... I mean, she-"

"We're going to wind up in prison! The slammer! The sewer! For life! Burn dat hoe! Burn her! #don'tburnpeoplethatsnotnicebïtchesanditsillegalanditscruelandforgetiputthisinherelol" The other shouts, and Peter goes to lunge at me with a dagger he has tucked in a pouch in his belt.

Well, he's so fat I'd be surprised he would manage to get all the way over here without falling into a cardiac arrest, I think to myself, sighing.

Did they forget I was superhuman? I can blow him to India with my breath if I wanted to! I immediately make myself bullet/dagger proof, and as he lunges at me, the dagger rebounds and strikes him in the nuts. I have good aim, apparently. Jk, of course I have good aim. I'm the granddaughter times 26 of Alexander Hamilton. That dude's legit. He even has a musical after him!

"What in the name of #*(&! just #*&!*# just happened, @#*$(#)? I'm !@*&($# bleeding, #(&!(@*#&^*#&^E(#*!"

I cover my ears. I still have innocence, you know, b85ch3$.

Peter rushes the man (now that I think about it, he looks suspiciously like Lord Voldemort... My ultimate role model!) out of the room to a local hospital, muttering soft words of consolation. I cringe. Poor doctors. That would be a scarring operation.

WINNWILIASSQJM looks back at me, after the little scene finishes.

"Are you with us or not?" He asks me, coughing up a hunk of mucus from the back of his throat and spitting it out on the floor directly in front of me. I shiver. Man, aren't I glad he didn't get that on my Gucci heels!

"N-n-no, absolutely hot. I mean not! Absolutely not!" I stammer, walking backwards frantically. I trip over some junk I didn't notice behind me, and nearly fall on my butt. My poor butt. It's too nice and rounded for that. I need my butt.

"Why not?" he asks. He walks closer, closer, until I'm positive he's some sort of a pervert. I fly to my feet and once I'm on solid ground, Billy Bob puts himself between me and the man protectively.

I glance at Billy and send him a message with my eyes- literally. I transform my pupils into the words I want.

Get out of here?

Billy hesitates. He thinks things over, then nods. He's so cute!

I turn my fist to steel and punch... What's his name? I search his brain.

Depuarneux! Depuarneux Tennyson. I punch Depuarneux in the face. His face... You know, I'm not completely sure what happened. I know it's not human, anyway. Its all gory- my Michael Kors bag! It was hit with his blood! Nuuuuu!!!!

I sob over it and give it a little funeral in a time span of 2.05732 seconds, before the rest of the gang get on my case for hurting their master.

I grab Billy's hand and apparate out of the sewer, then fly back to my house, with Arianna still there, sobbing in relief when she sees me and Bobby fly in.

Her eyes widen, though, and so do mine and Billy Bob's, as we see what I'm holding in my third hand I retract when needed.

Oh crap.

A/N
I swear if no one understands the Depuarneux/ Tennyson refrence I'll be literally so upset. Do yo research! I'll be here... Waiting...