I rummaged through the rusted car wreck, my fingers prying loose any scraps worth salvaging. The post-apocalyptic world was quiet, save for the wind howling through the hollowed-out shells of dead vehicles. Suddenly, a shadow loomed over me—a massive figure. She is very big and fat. I looked up into her cold, tattooed face. Her grip tightened on my shoulder like a vice.

"You picked the wrong car," she growled, her voice as heavy as her frame. She throws you to the ground.