Bullseye.

This chick was hot, man, like unbelievably hot. Like make-a-guy-wanna-write-about-her hot. She was fierce. She was savage. She was every adjective you can think of. She wasn't no blonde Barbie and she was minding her business like no one else existed. Like really minding her own business. I turned my head and saw her walking past me with who I'm assuming was her kid brother and younger sister. She was raven-haired, with massive amounts of black eye make-up. She wasn't a little emo girl, otherwise I'd want to throw a rock at her head. She was wearing this big, purple parka, and black leggings that showed off a juicy, smackable ass. I don't know what was up with the parka, but even in that she dazed me. I turned back and went on with what I was doing but had to look for her moments later. I walked down the direction she went and saw her again. Other dudes around her were staggering. They'd look at me like, "right?" but I wasn't even looking at them. This chick with the jet-black hair and the raccoon eyes was piercing my heart like a sterling silver needle. She had really thick hair, too, that was half up and half down. Her little sister must have been seventeen or so, and she looked savage-in-the-making. Her little brother was fat. They were shopping. This was in Target, of all places. Bullseye, I'll say.