[ WP ] Write about a parallel universe where ballet is a part of ghetto culture and gangsta hip hop is the preserve of high society .

They turned down Belmont Boulevard. Edward's dad glanced from the road to the mirror to adjust his Yankees hat, then motioned toward the floor with a finger. “ Eddie, my man, throw in some Heavy D. This ghetto makes me depressed. ” 
 
 Eddie looked down for the CD pack, but was launched forward into the dash as his dad jammed on the brakes. “ Jesus Christ! Look at this bitch. Its nasty! ” 
 
 Eddie sat up. A woman crossed the street in front of them with a pink leotard. She was walking on her tippy toes. Eddie thought they called it ‘ point ’, or something just as unoriginal. It took forever for them to cross the street when they walked like that, and Eddie noticed his dad was tightening his grip on the steering wheel. 
 
 Finally, the girl cleared the car, and Eddie ’ s dad scrubbed out the old white Lincoln. “ That ’ ll teach em! ” He pulled tight joint out of his shirt pocket, and sparked it up. “ Lets fish bowl this bitch! ” 
 Eddie, rubbed his hands together. He loved it when they fish bowled the car. Especially on the way to Red Lobster for Sunday dinner. Man, they were hella lucky to be so well off. He closed his eyes and let his head rest back against the seat. One more block and they were out of the ghetto. 
 
 The car eased to a stop, the old Lincoln ’ s brakes squeaking. Eddie opened one eye, and saw the dangling red light over the intersection, and smiled. Almost out. A car pulled up next to them with all the windows down. It was a prius, stuffed full of kids. Oh, boy. Here we go, Eddie thought. They kids were staring over at them. Eddie ’ s dad looked away and tucked his gold chain down under his shirt collar, then reached under his seat and pulled out his tec-nine and laid it in his lap. 
 
 The kid driving the Prius had one of the new Banana Republic suits on, jet black. He reached down and turned the music up. Eddie and his dad cringed. Anything but that crap. Nothing but sharp staccato screeches, and loud bangs. 
 
 The light turned green and the kids drove off slow, and showed how uncultured they were by using a blinker to turn left. Eddie ’ s dad shook his head. He put the gun back under his seat, then reached for the radio and turned the bass way up so that the car was vibrating as drove away from the ghetto, and all that horrible music. Out the rearview mirror, Eddie saw a girl with her hair pulled back tight, pirouette across the intersection. Blah. 
 

