Kenzie Is Ballin'

They see me rollin'
They hatin'
Patrolling, they tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin' dirty
Tryin to catch me ridin' dirty

Chamillionaire's "Ridin'" song blasted through Kenzie's sleek, black, new SUV. Her windows tinted black, seculding her from the outside. Her license reading wntzrlz, a joke that had been given from her extremely awesome friend, Lilly. She was on a roadtrip to the one and only, Las Vegas. Home to strippers, drugs, gay guys, and et certra.

Now, the normal person would pass Kenzie's car and think nothing different, but a Pete-Wentz obsessed fan would think "OH MY FUCKING GOD. THERE IS PETE WENTZ AKA GOD RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. WHAT DO I DO. WHAT DO I DO. WHAT DO I DO." Usually this didn't happen, actually it never happened.

Kenzie stopped at the (duh) stop light and waited for it to turn green. She watched the streets of Vegas easily. Hooker there, strip club here.

Red.

Hookers were eyeing Kenzie's car. It was obvious that someone with a car like that was loaded. One from the crowd walked forward. She was wearing a skimpy little outfit, fishnets, and high heeled slittoes.

She walked over to Kenzie's car and knocked on the window.

"Pete? Pete Wentz is that you?" She asked.

Kenzie silently laughed inside and drew the window down, to reveal her eyes.

"Yes?" She said in a gruff voice, trying not to die of laughter.

Oh, Kenzie knew very well who this person was. Keltie Colleen.

Yellow.

"You need a fix?" She breathed on the window, pressing her breast up against them.

Note to self: Wipe windows

"Uh, no thank you, whore."

"Excuse me?? Roll down your window and say it to my face, bastard."

Green.

Kenzie took off, leaving Keltie behind.

"RYAN'S CHEATING ON ME! PETE, STOP! I NEED SEX!"

Kenzie stuck her hand out the window to reveal the middle finger.

"HE'S BETTER WITH BRENDON ANYWAY! WE ALL SAW IT COMING BITCH!" Cackeled Kenzie.

Kenzie stopped her sweet ass ride infront of a bar. She checked herself out in the mirror.

Hm...my mustache is fading. Kenzie groaned and grabbed her eyeliner stick.

She did a few sweeps across the top of her mouth and drew small stubble on her chin.

Perfect...

She reached to the backseat and grabbed the hairspray making her hair stick straight up.

She was now PEDO WENTZ.

Her plan was now in motion.

She got out of the car, remembering to out on her sideburns and spotted the real Wentz's car on the other side.

She tugged her purple Clandestine hoodie, and pulled her men's skinny jeans up.

She strolled into the bar and saw Mr. Pete Wentz himself.

Now seeing as she used to fangirl over Pete, she was extremely close to scream, flail, and etc. all over him, but she kept her cool. She wanted someone else. Kenzie sat the seat next to Pete and smiled at him. He smiled back and turned back to his drink. His eyes widened and turned back to Kenzie.

The bar was still loud and no one seem to notice the two identical people.

With a thawk, Kenzie knocked him out. The bartender asked her what was wrong with Wentz.

"Oh, my twin brother obviously had to much to drink," she replied.

Kenzie drug Pete out to his car and fiddled in Pete's pockets for the keys.

Why didn't Kenzie just take her own car? Well, she's just crazy.

Kenzie somehow produced a rope and tied up Wentz and put him in the backseat.

And away they go.