Shane wasn't quite sure he had heard Mandy correctly. True, her voice was a bit on the awkward side -- her annunciation was all wrong, for one thing -- but he seriously thought he'd misheard her this time. "We planned plans?"

"You dolt! I knew you'd forget. That's why I made you get that freaky tattoo..." She smiled wickedly, sounding just like the girl in that Memento movie he'd rented last night.

Shane checked his arms and legs, along with the backs of his hands. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Where's the tattoo? I don't see it."

"Oh, it's on your chest." She growled suddenly -- Rawr! -- and ripped his shirt open. Shane jumped back, terrified. "I could just lick that chest."

"Please don't," Shane said quickly, but she was already dragging his hand to his car.

"You still drive this clunky-junky?" she groaned, crinkling her nose in disgust. "Dude, you so need a better ride."

"It's a '67 Camaro!"

"Camara Shpamara... I don't care. You need something a thugger would drive."

"Seeing as how I'm such a gangsta...?"

"Well, you would be if you drove something like a -- a," she snapped her fingers. "You should buy a Benz!"

"Mandy, I love this car. I love driving this car and it's not a clunky-junky. The car stays."

Mandy pouted.

"The. Car. Stays," Shane repeated, firmly.

Mandy sighed. "All right."

"So, where we headed?"

"Check your tattoo."

Shane looked down, and ignoring Mandy's hysterical giggling, read the tattoo. Ghetto. Saturday.

"Okay, that didn't help me at all." He looked at Mandy, who'd stopped laughing.

"Make a right turn at Krispitty Kremes, drive past Star-bizzly-bucks, and keep cruising 'til I tell you to turn left."

"So why the ghetto?"

"Why, did you have your heart set on painting your nails?" She leaned forward to observe his fingers. "On second thought, they're all chipped. Maybe we should make a pit-stop at Sleek'N'Shiny."

"Ha ha."

"We're going to the ghetto for tea," she said.

"Are you kidding?"

"No." She paused, then added, "Ya know, they don't make the ghetto like they used to."

"Well, if they're serving tea now, I'd say you're right." Shane laughed. "Wait, are you telling me you've been to the ghetto before?"

Mandy threw back her head and cackled. Then, serious, "I'm a big fan. Remember all that hip-hop I bought you? This is where I bought it." She winked.

"Erm... okay."

Mandy suddenly looked really excited. "What tea will you get?"

"Well... I dunno. I pretty much stick to black coffee."

"Coffee. Blech. That's so boring. No wonder you're single, Shane."

"Uh, I'm not single."

"Andy drinks tea," Mandy told him haughtily.

"Why didn't you plan this ghetto tea outing with him then? I thought you two were attached to the hip."

"Nah. He's busy. Besides, we... well, he decided we should take a break for a bit. I'm so bummed."

"Why?"

"Who knows." She grinned. "I'm going to get green tea!"

Mandy stole Shane's untouched toast and chomped it thoughtfully. He groaned. "Mandy, would you quit stealing my food!"

"Yo' nah eatin' iht," Mandy told him thickly, a piece of toast flying out of her mouth.

"Gross." Shane laughed. "Why didn't you just get your own?"

"'Cause..."

"Well, fine, have mine. I'll just get another order."

"Wait! It's no fun that way!" she protested.

"Oh, you just wanna steal from me, is that it?"

"You crazy kid," she said, and ruffled his hair.

"Kiss me," he said quickly.

Mandy's eyes widened. "What did you just say?"

"What? Nothing." Shane stood up. "Let's go."

"You didn't even get to eat."

Shane gave her a blank look as a waitress in a French maid costume came walking by holding a tray of what appeared to be whole broiled bananas.

"Want ya check, dears?" she asked in a New York accent snapping her gum noisily.

"All right, fine, we'll leave," Mandy said. She stood up and popped a Listerine Cool Mint PocketPak tap in her mouth. She handed one to Shane.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"Duh. Minty fresh breath. What else would it be for?"

He took the thin strip and put it in his mouth.

When they exited Ghetto G's Tea Temple, Mandy backed Shane into a corner and she said in a breathy voice, "Now kiss me."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I am."

"What about Andy?"

"Not here, is he?"

"What about Jenna?"

"Who's Jenna?"

"My girlfriend."

"Oh. The one who I saw with Justin the other day?"

"What?"

"Yup, they reconciled apparently."

"Jeez. What a tramp."

"Yup, she's a tramp. Kiss me."

"Well, okay. But first..." Shane got down on one knee. "Will you bling-bling me?"

"Oh Shane, I just don't know what to say!"

"Say you will, baby, say you will."

"Sure!"

He slipped the Hershey's kiss, in the shape of a bling-bling ring, onto her finger.

"Oooh, with almonds!" she marveled, removing the dollar-off rebate coupon from Pimp Avenue catalog with her teeth. It fluttered to the ground. Shane suddenly went cross-eyed and screamed, "Vegas, baby!"

And in the beautiful smogful heat of the L.A. summer, the bling-blingy melted away and they road off into the sunset in Shane's Camara-Shpmara.