As the crowd of mutants approaches, Jessica shoots her sister a glance. "Run?" she asks, her voice still worn from the acidic beer she had earlier consumed in her quest to conquer sobriety.
After appraising the oncoming gang, Albany swallows the mouthful of fried ants and looks back at her sister, smiling. "Nah. The other one."
Smiling back, Jessica shrugs. "Alright."
Though the gang of mutants outnumber the sisters, they nevertheless approach cautiously, each of them afraid of being at the head of the pack when the fight finally begins. Feeling a surge of boldness, one of them finally steps ahead of the others, brandishing a knife. "You humans never fuc
king learn," he mutters angrily. "Maybe I oughtta cut Matty's name into the two of ya, 'fore I gut ya."
"Sounds good," says Jessica. "First, can you do me a quick favor?"
The mutant pauses, staring back at her in heated amusement. "Got a last request, do ya bitch? Let's hear it, then. As long as it isn't a painless death, I might even oblige ya."
"Psh," laughs Jessica. "Who'd want something as boring as that?" Hopping off of her chair, she smiles. "I just wanted to know if you'd hold this for me." Quickly grabbing the chair behind her, she throws it towards the mutant, splattering his soft skull open as one of the metal legs makes contact.
"Kill em!" shouts a mutant wielding two small swords, throwing one of them at Jessica as the gang rushes forward.
Ducking down, Jessica evades the knife. The blade sails onward until it collides with the rack of drinks on the wall behind the bar, shattering a bottle, and sending the acidic contents flying out in a splatter.
That gives Jessica an idea. Hurriedly standing, she grabs her drink off of the bar and tosses it at the gang. The bottle strikes one of the mutants in the forehead, shattering in a splash of glass and acid, and halting a good number of the gang in their tracks. Screaming in pain, their skin and eyes being eaten by the corrosive liquid, they stumble to the ground.
The mutants that remain unhindered by the acid are soon met with Albany's fists as she rushes into their midst, shouting a battlecry. Shattering jaws and dismembering arms with every strike, she proves more than a match for the fragile mutants, though she is nevertheless damaged by the occasional knife slash. Jessica soon rushes in beside her, her bootheel getting stuck in a mutant's skull as her kick passes through his face.
Quickly seizing a billiard cue from one of the mutants, Albany spins as a mutant stabs at her from behind, his knife clipping her waist. After knocking his head off with a mighty swing, she struggles to keep herself calm, trying to focus on taking out the remaining mutants that are armed with bladed weapons as opportunities present themselves. However, it's hard to focus when surrounded by a gang of mutants swinging knives and boards of wood wildly.
Regaining his composure, the mutant armed with the machete leaps into the fray, cutting a large gash into Jessica's forearm. Disarming him as he lashes out once more, she quickly seizes the weapon and strikes back at him in one fluid motion, sending his head careening off into the cheering crowd of barpatrons now gathered along the back wall.
Between the two of them, the sisters soon dispatch the entirety of the gang, save for the few that fled out of the bar after realizing the futility of their assault. Covered in deep cuts and red marks that would soon flower into brilliant bruises, the sisters drop their weapons and stumble back to the bar. Swiping a drink that had been abandoned by one of the patrons, Jessica drinks deeply, smoke trailing out of her nostrils as the liquid sears her throat.
Peeking up from behind the bar, the bartender eyes the monsoon of glowing mutant blood and limbs strewn about his establishment, a garter of intestines draped across one of the hands of the ceiling fan, swaying and dripping as it spins lazily.
"Sorry," says Albany.
Straightening up, the bartender waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry 'bout it. I knew what I was gettin' into when I bought this place. I mean, what's Friday night without a good massacre?"
"Right... on," coughs Jessica, tossing the half finished drink into the mutant pasta.
"Still," says the bartender, scanning the damage, "I'm probably gonna have to spend all night cleaning out the guts."
"Yeah," agrees Jessica, turning to appraise the chaos with him. "That's... a... real... pisser."
The bartender shrugs. "Well, you know, you two could give me a hand, considering that you-"
Jessica raises a hand. "Hey... say... no... more."
The bartender narrows his eyes. More often than not, the two sisters skip out after causing carnage, leaving the clean-up to someone else. "Seriously?"
Jessica shrugs and smiles. "Sure." Stepping into the body part stroganoff, she retrieves a dismembered hand, and tosses it back to the bartender. "All... yours... friend." Having said that, she makes her way to the door.
Laughing through his nose and rolling his eyes, the bartender tosses the hand into the kitchen, and then glances at Albany. "How 'bout you?"
Albany stares back at him innocently for a moment, before snatching the plate of fried ants and following after Jessica in silence. Catching up to her, she shoves a mouthful of ants into her mouth, savoring the sharp crunch.
Jessica glances at her. "Your head feel any clearer, now?"
Albany swallows the ants and smiles. "Much." She looks down at the injuries scattered over her body, streaks of blood dashed across her clothing and skin. "Soon as I plug all these leaks, I'll be right as acid rain."
Brushing an errant hair away from her eyes, blood dripping down from her elbow to the concrete below, Jessica laughs. "Yeah. Much as I hate to spend our resources on frivolities like injuries, maybe we ought to check in with the sawbones."
Up ahead, a man in a trenchcoat rushes out of a ruined building, his arms crossed tightly around a large briefcase as he holds it to his chest.
What should the Rose sisters do?
A. Better safe than sorry. The sisters should get their wounds treated.
B. Screw all that band-aid shit. It's time for some physical therapy. The sisters should find some more skulls to crack. There are still assholes in the world that haven't been given the chair.
C. They shouldn't waste their resources on treatment, but they also shouldn't go looking for trouble. They should just turn in for the night, and hope that they don't bleed to death in their sleep.
D. They should investigate the man up ahead. After all, people in trenchcoats are legally required to be up to no good.