Bonnie sighs, stepping back. Looking at the Graffiti work she made on the brick wall, a simple cup of coffee. Although she feels like it could use a little steam. Her boss, Momo, asked her to put it on. She's just an old lady running a Cafe, so of course she would. Her blue eyes peering through her white lashes, along with her hanging white coils of hair. Her weeping-Willow afro as she so proudly calls it is a great hairstyle for her, but it does get in the way. She swipes her bangs out of her eyes while backing up, getting a further view. The sun beating on her ebony black skin. Until, she takes a step onto one of her spray cans, which rolls under her feet. She falls, and eats the sidewalk. She sighs a bit again, laying on the floor in mild pain. Mostly from her white Converse's getting scuffed, along with her white cargo pants, and her tank top. But that's the price she pays for wearing all White. She gets up, looking at her elbows.

Bonnie: I've got myself fucked up, huh?