Friday rolled around faster than Bette Porter and Tina Kennard had both expected. It was nearly 11 am and Bette was stuck in traffic 10 minutes from The Planet. She pounded on the leather steering wheel, her horn startling half of the drivers in front of her.

Come on, come on. She muttered, silently cursing each and every person who had to be in this place at this time. Another slam on the wheel sent fingers and curses flying from each car, pointed in her direction. Well ***** them, Im Bette Porter and I am not about to be late to this meeting. She thought, slamming on the gas and swerving around the other cars into the shoulder lane. She continued this way until she reached The Planet, with a cop on her tail.

She glanced for a moment towards the clock, 10:57. She had 3 minutes to deal with the cop and then rush into The Planet. It sounded like a plan, that was until the cop that got out of the car recognized her. Yes, the stocky man had nearly arrested Ms. Porter last year for causing a disturbance at her own art gallery. It hadnt really been her fault in the first place, the man had totally come at her with the homophobic comments first. She only hit the man (who later turned out to be the Mayor) in the face a few times, but apparently enough to require police action.

Well, well Ms.Porter. I guess Im here to show you what the law is made of. Officer Ackman said proudly, pulling a small notebook from his chest pocket.

Bring it on. She muttered, eyes casting a sarcastic glance in his direction as she retrieved her license and registration from the glove compartment. Listen Im running kind of late, can we hurry this up. Ill pay the fines and whatever else you throw at me. I just need to go.

Dont rush me, or itll take longer. She glared as he threw the most disgusting smirk in her direction. He wrote slower than a turtle, well, a turtle that could possibly write. He looked her over now and then, admiring the considerable amount of cleavage that was left open to the world. Ill need to take your license.