When the Times Square Flim Flam Man took her twenty and said show me the money, she opened fire. Cleared the block. The boys at the box never knew what hit them.
Fading into the crowd, she strolled heel over heel to the China Bowl. Ordered an egg fried rice to go.
"And I'll take one of those fortune cookies." She pointed then bit a fingernail before putting on her glasses. She still had to hold the little strip of paper out at arm's length to read it and took a bite out of the cookie as she did. The cookie was stale.
Good things come to those who wait, the fortune had read.
She thought that was about the stupidest thing she ever read so she pulled out her piece again and opened fire, dropping the Maitre D and bartender with the last two bullets in her clip.
She took off her heels as soon as she got into the cab and started rubbing her feet.
"I don't care where you take me. I'm filthy rich now," she said, throwing a wad of bills onto the cabbies lap. "I just went on a shooting spree in Times Square and fit in a little Chinese along the way!"