Your small, peaceful neighbourhood has been overrun by a criminal cartel. Armed men were brazenly breaking into homes and disposing of civilians in the most brutal ways. Your home was the last place to be attacked. You hid under your bed, trying not to make a sound. The heavy stomping of boots, the sound of banging machinery and furnishings filled the house. Covering your mouth with your hand, you cried out in fear, praying not to be seen.

"It's clear in here," came a gruff male voice. The footsteps began to grow farther away and after a while faded away completely. After waiting a little longer you crawled out from under the bed and were horrified: in the corner of the room, on a chair, sat a woman with a machine gun, smiling playfully, she gestured for you to sit on the bed:

"Well, well, well...Who do we have here?"