Playing Stacy

Me and trouble go together like Nutella and, well, anything. Meaning, as a team we offer no real benefit and are ultimately bad for you in the end, yet you just can’t help yourself from indulging. Yeah, hi there, my name is Stacy and I’m what some might call a miscreant. Though I’d prefer you compare me to the likes of a mischievous fairy. (Because I’m adorable and spritely and how many criminals can you say that about?) I mean no harm, it’s all in good fun. But some people - *coughChadcough* - have a hard time appreciating my good-natured, all-around lovable personality. But on occasion, my fun becomes a little less… innocent. Like when the stick-up-his-butt police officer, whom I like to refer to as Officer McSexyPants, made an enemy in me. Tossing me in jail over a very obvious joke (because what kind of idiot legitimately tries to whore herself out to an officer in uniform, am I right?) might have sounded like a good idea at the time, but he was wrong. Oh, (cue evil laughter) he was so, so wrong. To prepare you for this ride-along, I’ve composed a list of things you’ll need before beginning your journey: Extra undies (Because mom always said to wear clean underwear in case you were in an accident, and I foresee a lot of wreckage); A toothbrush (‘Coz I’m a dental hygienist and bad oral care habits bug me); A playlist of songs that get you pumped up for badassery (Mine is full of NSYNC - everyone knows they are the real OGs); And lastly, some pencil and paper (You’ll want to take notes for future use. Eventually it’ll be your turn to exact revenge on someone and I promise to give you good material).