Tank Girl stands smoking a cigarette. Her eyes are concealed by the wind-shield wiper goggles built into her helmet, and she's holding a ridiculously over-sized rocket-launcher in one hand. She's obviously been leaning against your car, and her ass, barely contained by her tiny denim shorts, has left a big, greasy ass-print on your driver-side door.
Tank Girl blows out a puff of smoke. "You've got really shitty timing, you know that?"
"How's that?" you ask.
Tank hoists the weapon. "See, I JUST ran out of fresh panties, and it turned out my cunt-head boy-friend, Booga, stole all my fucking money and spent it on beer and pot. So I figured I'd go knock down a bank and grab myself some panty-money, when, lookee here! Some fucking tosser has beat me to it."
You tighten your grip on the gun. Tank Girl grins and wags a finger at you.
"Ah, ah, ah. You're out-gunned buddy, and you know it. Not to mention I'm the best fucking gunner in the world. Now, hand over the money and I promise I won't kill the ever-loving bollocks out of you."
Tank Girl suddenly belches and staggers. The stench of cheap beer and marijuana reaches your nostrils.
Maybe Tank Girl's not quite so good a shot as she claims...
