Outside in the Manhattan street, as the four club-girls talked trashed about Beluga's purple pimp-wagon minivan, instead of getting offended, he deflected with a line he had on autopilot. "My driver got into an accident and crashed my Mercedes. He's in the hospital and the dealership couldn't replace it for me in time, so he gave me his car tonight."
...
The four women exchanged glances, and shrugged. According to their drunk logic, the story checked out…
So, they all got in the car, with eight people fitting into seven seats, and started off on their way. It wasn't a very long ride to Brooklyn. Even so, Ben became more nervous with each passing minute. After all, he still needed to seduce one of these girls.
For that reason, when they arrived at the front of Beluga's house a while later, Ben's eyes gained a fierce determination. It was his last chance. D*ck or die...