“Dr Mondomandaveriaz’s office.” The statement was spoken with obvious distain from a designer clad sleek woman with a chic blonde bob, seeming to have come straight off a New York runway. The room she was positioned in was the same, clean lines through out. The desk, the chairs and modernist art wasn’t the usual look of a waiting room. However the slumped teenager with legs crossed, thumbing through Cosmic Magazine while getting disapproving looks from the receptionist was.

There was a buzz from the desk “The 2 O’Clock Dahling” Without a word between the two in the waiting room, the teen rose, pushing the zine deep in her bag as she headed towards the smoked glass door.

In this room she placed her bag on a conveyer belt where it was taken through an x-ray while she also stood in front of one, waiting half a minute and turning a half circle. Her whole behaviour implied she had done this several times. She then headed through the second door after retrieving her bag revealing the eighties.

“DAHLING!!” The over exuberant exclamation came from a tiny woman with short dark hair and overly large glasses who was sitting in a huge retro 80’s egg chair suspended from the ceiling, her legs dangling far from the floor “Dahling! So good to see you again Erin!”

“You too Edna.” Erin gave an infrequent warm smile as she sprawled on hippy beanbag.

“But Dahling…What is this, all this, with the clothes and the what, what is this?!”

With her pink hair in braids, her black Twinklebell tee, plus the plaid skirt over jeans with red converse combo Erin shrugged. “Punk?”

“Where are the flairs and neon’s! That’s real fashion!” Edna smiled at Erin’s pitting look. “Shall we get the session started hmm? So how is life? Are you well dahling? And the assassination business…how is that?”

Erin had meet Edna Mondomandaveriaz the same way she seemed to meet everyone, through a trail of bodies and blood.

…cue the mission impossible theme as we go back 8 months…

A thick bundle of worn $100 bills slid across the desk. “mmm dirty money. My favourite.” The pink haired, black PVC clad girl thumbed through the cash as her green eyes watched the 8-10 thick set guys stalking the room. She turned to a second version of her self that she was sitting next to. “What do you think Sister? Should we take their…humble offer?” They slyly smiled to each other. “Well…lets see. You pretty much want your boss to become…permanently unemployed?”
“The bank robber”
“The P.I.M.P”
“The drug dealer”
“The murderer”
“For this?” The first Erin once again thumbed though the wad of cash. There was a sigh from the opposite side of the table and an identical bundle found its way in the second set of eager hands. The pair of seeming twins rose from table. “Done”

The suits smiled momentarily, their guards down, and in that second the twins doubled, producing four katana blades. Moving in a dance that was as deadly as it was captivating, the Erins looked at the guys and gave the merest look at each other instantly knew the plan. They all span in different directions and at different angles but the result was the same. Where there once stood 10 men now stood four girls with bloody swords, one of which didn't look too pleased.

“Why is it the last one always manages to get blood on me?”
“I know! And we should really try to let these hilarious negotiations go on for longer”
“I know! Its like, minor threat minor threat, money exchange, death.”
“I know! I would so want more from my life if I knew that’s how it would all go down.”
“I know! Blaze of glory!”
“And all that jazz.”
“Totally.”

A conversation with the Erin’s could be… very vapid and headache inducing, but at least they all knew they were on the same page.

“So we’re taking the mark?”
“We’re taking the money.”
“And the petty dossier they wrote up.”
“And its not like we have anyone better to kill.”
“Yet.”

(lol Edna's fabulous, Dahling.)