[center][h3][color=firebrick]CASS ROWLEY[/color][/h3]

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Cass had practically tuned out the conversations going on around her, the greetings of friends and acquaintances and the like; she was well aware that to practically everyone here she was only around because she knew the top brass. A literal 'friend of a friend' situation. If the others didn't like her, that was too damn bad. She was awesome. She told herself that every day. The Hispanic man she was currently living with told her that every day too. Well, he said something in Spanish but she assumed it was positive. He wasn't much for talking in English,much more of an actions sort of person. 

Suffice it to say, Cass just knew she was awesome and if others disagreed then they could fuck themselves. 

A wet farting sound came from Cass' corner of the couch when the destination was picked, followed by a rather crude gesture involving her left hand curled into a fist and an up and down motion. [color=firebrick]"Manniwhata? Minnewho? Those are sounding like some boring as all fuck places, Jet Plane. You could've at lease aimed for somewhere a little more exciting."[/color] 

Of course, she knew it didn't matter her complaints, such was the power of blind decision, but when had that ever stopped her from saying, well, anything. All she knew about Minnesota was that it was a state people forget exists, like Montana or Iowa, and that there's a ball of twine somewhere in the state. Though maybe that was a song. Possibly both. Even still, it didn't sound like the hot spot destination for this road trip, not like a beach or a big city with lots to do in little time.

[color=firebrick]"Plus fuck Canada. Who needs it, right? Not all of us have passports anyway, and as much as it'd be fun, I ain't a fan of being smuggled in the back of a trunk. You'd all be criminals, though, which would make you marginally cooler. But whatever."[/color][/center]