Ducati

Ok, imagine this: you’re Bruce Wayne on a night out on the town and go into a ridiculously expensive restaurant with a 6’0 russian ballet dancer with a waist as skinny as a pencil. The dinner goes fantastic and she’s a marvel to look at. As you leave the restaurant she breaks her high heels, falls, rips your coat on the way down, and breaks her arm. She blames you because you weren’t holding her arm in the perfect way. Now it costs a butt load to fix, she can only go to a specific hospital that only uses certain medication so she doesn’t destroy her olympic progress, and all of it is out of your pocket.
But hey, she looks great.

“I was at the meet yesterday and saw a beautiful, 1 of 1 Ducati, just a shame he probably sold his wife’s wedding ring for it behind her back.”