Miss Demise<br/>New York City streets/ Blue Moon Bar<br/>Evening<br/><br/><br/><br/>A blow to the hip and another man was down. A twist of the arm and there went the third.  Fighting was more of an art form than anything else, but she lived for it.  One of the few remaining gangbangers actually managed a blow across her shoulder.  All that really did was make the adrenaline rush even greater.  Slamming her palm into the man in questions nose, Amy pants for breath as she stands in the center of the alleyway, surrounded by a bunch of bodies on the ground who were either unconscious or too afraid and in pain to stand up. “You lucky.” She says, wiping her brow as she gazes at the men with heated eyes.  “I’d take you to jail myself, but its only my word against yours so…”<br/>With that, the pink haired woman who caused so much destruction walked away.  Simply walked away, leaving the thugs to groan, moan, and crawl away with defeat.<br/><br/>Once she was out of the alleyway, it was all Amy could do to keep from humming.  None the less, there was an obvious bounce to the young woman’s step.  She felt better than she had in months!  Nothing like shattering a man’s jawbone to raise your spirits, that was for sure.  She didn’t even feel like drinking any more!<br/><br/>Eyeing a payphone, the young woman hesitates before heading over to it.  It had been awhile since she had talked to la familia, the months had just gone by so quickly….she wasn’t going to the bar, so she might as well.<br/><br/>Dialing up the out of state number, Amy hesitates for a moment before smiling a smile more fit for a woman that hadn’t just taken out a group of full grown men single handedly.<br/>“Hey Papi!  I know, I know its been awhile, but I’m still in the city and-“<br/>She is cut off.  Quickly and simply with a single simple sentence.<br/><br/>“El murio el payaso.”<br/><br/>A minute later, the only thing heard on either end of the phone lines was the dial tone.<br/><br/>Ten minutes later, she was sitting at her usual bar stool; staring at the half finished pint in her hand like it was a foreign object.  El murio el payaso.  The clown had died there.  He had died in the city.<br/><br/>Taking another swig of her drink, Amy shakes her head.  “Ese tipo es un agrandado! Vive deciendo tonterias y haciendose el importante!” she groans to the bartender, who nodded his head knowingly; as though he actually understood a single word she was saying, all while refilling her beer mug.<br/><br/>And the comedian was all the things she just said he was!  So….so why did she suddenly feel so hollow?<br/><br/>When did this happen?  And why?  And by who?  Questions whirled around Amy's fogged mind, but she was definitely not in the position to answer a single one just yet.