"Damn it feels good to be a gangster!" thought Dennis as he rolled, in style down the streets of suburban Tampa. It'd been a week since he'd gotten his hands on a used Ferrari 360 Modena. Sure it wasn't brand new, but a fresh set of rims could do wonders for a car starting to show its age.

Dennis had acquired the Ferrari through semi-legitimate means in a deal he'd made several states over. The week of nervousness that always seemed to follow such deals had passed and Dennis was finally starting to enjoy his new car. For once, his girlfriend wasn't yelling at him on the phone. For once his goddamn kids weren't in trouble and for once, nobody was out to get him.

Dennis thought about his family, his whore ex-wife, his mistress cum girlfriend and fantasized for just a minute about them all going away. "If only it were that easy" he thought. "If only I could run some sort of deal, just buy them all off and never have to deal with them again."

The Ferrari purred, automatically shifting through the gears, keeping things calm as it reflected Dennis' mood. He knew that with just a twitch of his foot, the minimum of provocation, the powerful car could fly off the handle, incinerating its rear tires, screaming at the top of its lungs to anyone who would listen.

Yes. This was a good car for Dennis. Finally some respect. Finally people would see him as he knew himself to be. A target of desire, but also something to be feared. "Nobody fucks with a man in a Ferrari" Dennis thought, as he smiled to himself.

"I don't think so" Parking next to a truck at the clinic was not advisable, the broke ass driver of some jeep isn't going to respect the paint job on an Italian stallion like the 360 Modena Dennis was piloting. The handicapped spot was, like always empty. Nobody handicapped would ever park there, when there's a closer lot across the street. "Like some dude in a wheelchair is going to roll the whole way to the clinic from the far parking lot." Besides, the doctor had assured him it would be fast, just a quick prescription, some pills and a few weeks later Dennis would be back to peeing like a champion

He headed up to the counter to pay. "Thank god for insurance" he thought upon looking at the bill. Unfortunately he also needed to use the bathroom, which he knew from the last week or so, meant considerable pain. "Shit!" It never seems worth it in retrospect.

Emerging from the public toilet, Dennis was a changed man, just as he had been every time he took a wiz in the last couple of weeks. Gone was the euphoria. It was currently not feeling good to be a gangster. What joy, what wondrous bliss it would be to pee freely like a normal goddamn person, instead of the hateful agony Dennis went through currently. It didn't seem fair. Not at all.

Something didn't look quite right as Dennis headed back to his car. Some kid stopped in front of the Ferrari. Staring? That's normal. But no, he was doing something with his hands. And then Dennis' jaw dropped as a torrent of liquid smoothly and apparently painlessly let loose from the kids mid-section all over the front of the Ferrari.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck "FUCK!!!!!" Dennis finally yelled. His Ferrari, his brand new toy, and this kid has the gall to piss all over it?

Rage seethed in Dennis like an upset stomach before exploding from his mouth in an uncontrollable torrent. His Ferrari. Did this punk not know what that is? Does he not know what Dennis could do? Who he was? He's a man with a motherfucking Ferrari. You don't fuck with a man with a Ferrari!

The unfairness of it all once again hit him. He couldn't even pee on this kids car in retaliation. Dennis was certainly not above the act, various drunken memories drudged up several images of unsteadily aiming at random door handles. But never a Ferrari. No decent person would pee on a Ferrari.

When Dennis saw the bottle and realized what was going on his anger flared anew. This wasn't some drunken mistake, it was a deliberate attempt to fuck with Dennis. He'd get back at this kid, he'd do something to hurt him, hurt his family, hurt anyone who he knew. He could do it. He was a powerful man, a man who drove a Ferrari.

Dennis sat in his car. The shit eating pranksters had left and Dennis' anger was once a pilot light rather than an inferno. Still there, but not all consuming, not mangling his thoughts. Now he could plan. "Just a couple more weeks on these pills" he thought."Then we'll see who gets the last laugh."

Dennis started his Ferrari, his beautiful stallion. "Shit, this might just be the fastest car in Florida." he thought, allowing himself a brief smile. He put it in drive and stepped on the gas, hard. Heads went on a swivel as he made his noisy exit, his anger fading as people watched him go. He was driving a Ferrari after all, and these people knew it. They knew to show some fucking respect.