Chloe Van Cleer sat with her long legs spread out across the backseat of the van, listening to the two other thugs bickering as they wound their way down Gotham’s grimey streets, beneath the light of flickering street lamps.

“What are you, six?”

“Yeah, I’m six.Six inches deep in your mom.”

“My mom’s dead, you freak.”

“I promise she wasn’t when I started.”

“I’m two fucking seconds away from snapping your neck, you prissy little lady-boy fuck!”

“Dudes! Chill the fuck out!” Chloe piped up, giving the back of the driver’s chair a firm kick. “At least wait until we’ve got the job done before you start killing each other. I don’t give a fuck what happens once I’m paid.”

“Well, I’m not getting paid enough to work with this bag of dicks.” Fierro grumbled from behind the wheel, his steely eyes fixed on the road.

“You look like you could use a good dicking,” jeered the prissy-looking figure with long eyelashes and a woman’s plump shoulders in the seat next to him “help you loosen up a bit.”

“When the day comes, I’m sure you’ve got a spare one lodged up your ass that you could lend me.”

Tuning out the two gangster’s whining, Chloe caught sight of the tinny blue mini cooper they were on the lookout for.

“Dead ahead, fellas.” she said firmly, pumping her fist against the floor.

“Gotcha.” Fierro nodded, hitting the accelerator, and speeding straight into the back of the car. The vehicles connected with a jagged thud, denting metal and cracking the glass tail lights.

“Rock and roll.”

The two gangsters killed the ignition, unlocking their doors and stepping out into the road, as the driver of the mini leapt out, red in the face and looking ready to curb stomp someone.

“Where did you jokers learn to drive?!” He bellowed, a vein in his forehead bulging.

“Sorry mate, our bad.” Fierro said smoothly, raising his arms in surrender.

“Too right, it's your bad!” He snapped “You better be insured!”

Meanwhile, in the back of the van, Chloe was fastening the straps of her mask over the back of her head, and locking a gas canister into place on her cocoon gun.

She ever-so-gently eased the van’s doors open, clambering down into the road, with her features obscured. She poked her head round the corner of the van.

The target and the goons were all caught up in a heated argument, giving Chloe the perfect vantage point to line up her shot.

She yanked the trigger, and a thick stream of highly concentrated knockout liquid lanced through the air, splattering across the target's face, and putting him to sleep almost instantly. The fumes leaked out into the air around him, and soon the two thugs were swaying, and then passing out and dropping to the floor.

“Sorry, lads,” she muttered from beneath her mask, as she crouched down next to them, pulling a knife from her boots and placing it across the prissy one’s throat “but this way...I become a fuck load richer.”