You sat on the ledge of a building, looking downwards at the turf war taking place. You had no interest in taking part.

“Hey pipsqueak, whatcha doin up here?” The voice came from a one-eyed woman who looked cyclops-like, her eye being light yellow. She had a wide grin, showing off her sharp teeth, pinkish-blond hair in a ponytail and holding a small bomb in her hand.

She threw the bomb way above you and to the streets below, causing an explosion.

“Oops.” She giggled.