Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

From the outside, Guess Looks a lot like your standard Manhattan sleazy bistro, a brick and wood building with dimmed windows to accentuate the neon lights of the beer label.Above the gate, the faded sign reads "Take a Guess", just a few words, no "bring your odd sex interest", no "the more perverted the better" or "you better be happy with the unexpected" .Despite nothing, a commuter coming home from get off work might happen to pass by, stop, put down his briefcase, spot someone attractive, buy him or her a drink, and brush up on everything from a college fellowship event. Sweet talk, then take him or him home, and then, surprise.

Big Cindy was already standing at the door waiting for Myron. She was dressed like the "Earth Wind Fire" band, not like a certain member of the band, but like the whole band. "are you ready?" Myron hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Big Cindy pushed open the door, Myron held his breath and followed behind Big Cindy. The interior of "Guess" is completely different from Myron's imagination. He originally thought he would see... what did he see?Maybe, he thought, brightly colored and crazy scenes, like battle scenes in Star Wars.Quite the opposite, Guess Guess has the same feel and vibe as a singles bar for countless weekend nights.Some of the patrons were flamboyantly dressed, but most were still in khaki pants and suits, and there were some scary-looking cross-dressers, leather lovers, and a glamorous woman in a glitter bodysuit.But at night in Manhattan, it may be difficult to find a place without such people.Yes, some people do disguises, but at the end of the day, who in a singles bar isn't wearing a mask?

Wow, profound Myron Polita. A lot of eyes were cast on them, and Myron couldn't help being surprised at first, but he soon understood.Beside him stands Big Cindy, a 6-foot-6, 300-pound colorful guy with more sequins than Siegfried and Roy's costume party, a crowd-pleaser. It was her, not Myron. Big Cindy was very receptive to the attention of the crowd, dropping her eyes and acting demure like Ed Arthur coquettishly. "I know the head bartender here," she said, "his name is Pat." "Male or female?" She smiled, and punched Milon on the road, "You are finally out now."

A jukebox in the bar was playing The Police's "Every Little Thing She Does" and Myron tried to count how many times Sting repeated "Every Little Thing" but couldn't At 10,000, it gets confused. They found two stools near the bar, and Big Cindy started looking for Pat, while Myron looked around the bar like a detective.He turned his back to the bar, leaned his elbows on the bar, and nodded slightly to the music, looking sophisticated.The charming girl in black tights caught his attention, and she twisted and sat down on the seat beside Myron. Julie Newmar, who played Catwoman in 1967, flashed in Myron's mind. He often returns to the image of Ting.The woman's hair was auburn, but otherwise, she bore a striking resemblance to Catwoman.

The tights gave him a look that convinced Myron that telepathy was real. "Hi," she said. "Hi." Our Prince Charming came to life. The leotard slowly brought his hands down his neck and began to fiddle with the zipper of the leotard.Myron tried his best to remain calm, while casting a quick glance at Big Cindy. "Don't be too sure." Big Cindy warned. Myron frowned, please, she has cleavage on her chest.He sneaked another glance—in the spirit of rigorous science, yes, it was the cleavage, and it was deep.Myron looked back at Big Cindy, and whispered, "Tits, two."

Big Cindy shrugged. "My name is 'Thriller'." Tights introduced himself. "I'm Myron." "Myron," she repeated, tongue rolling as if savoring the name, "I like the name, it's manly." "Oh, thanks, I think so." "Don't you like your name?" "Actually, I've always hated the name a little bit," he said, giving her an artificially deep look, raising his eyebrows, looking like a pensive Fabio, "but since you like it, I think you should reconsider this problem." Big Cindy snorted like a moose coughing up a turtle shell.

"Thriller" gave Myron another ambiguous look, then picked up his own drink, and took a sip, but Myron suspected that the Film Association might rate this scene as R. "Tell me about you, Myron." They started chatting, and Pat the bartender wasn't back yet, so Myron and Miss Thriller chatted for about 15 minutes.Although they didn't want to admit it, they were really happy with Si Gen. "Tremor" turned around, facing Myron, closing the distance a little.Myron began to look for gender characteristics again. He began to carefully observe whether there were traces of camouflage, but found nothing.He looked at the cleavage again, and it was there.Yes, Myron is definitely a well-trained detective.

Shiver put his hands on Myron's thighs, the heat coming through his jeans.Myron stared at those hands for a moment, was she unusually large?Is it too big for women?Is it too small for men?He tried hard to judge, a little dizzy. "I don't want to be rude," Myron finally couldn't help it, "but you are a woman, isn't that so?" "Trembling" raised his head and laughed, and Myron began to look for her Adam's apple, but there was a black ribbon wrapped around her neck, which made observation more difficult.Her laugh was low and husky, but, oh, come on, this can't be a man, she has cleavage, and the tights give her curves, including—uh… lower body, you get it, right?

"Does it make any difference?" Tremor asked. "what?" "You find me attractive, don't you?" "From what I've seen, it does." "So what's the problem?" Myron held up his hands. "The problem is - let's be honest - if, during the moment of passion, a second penis appears in the room... oh, it must be very disappointing, for me." She laughed, "Can't have another penis, is that so?" "Yes, there can only be mine, and I prefer that." "Are you familiar with Woody Allen?" "yes."

"Well, allow me to quote him—" Myron listened quietly, "shuddering" to quote Woody, my God, if she is really a woman, Myron almost wants to propose to her, " Sex is good between two people, and sex is good between five people." "Excellent quote," Myron said. "Do you know the origin of this sentence?" "Woody's early nightclub gigs, in the 1960s, when Woody was doing stand-up comedy." Trembling nodded, as if satisfied that the schoolboy had passed the test. "But we're not talking about group sex right now," Myron said.

"Have you ever tried group sex?" she asked. "Oh, uh, no." "Let's say you tried it - if there were five people - and one of them had a penis, would you mind?" "We're talking about hypothetical situations, aren't we?" "Unless you want me to bring some friends over." "No, really, thank you." Myron took a deep breath, "Well, well, hypothetically, I don't think there should be a big problem, as long as the penis keeps a distance from me." "Shiver" nodded, "But if I have a penis..." "That would kill the scenery." "I see." "Thiver" drew circles on Myron's thigh, "You admit it, you are curious." "I admit, I'm really curious." "Oh?" "There are other things that also make me curious. If a person jumps off a skyscraper, what goes through his mind before he hits the ground?" She raised her eyebrows, "The falling speed must be very fast." "Yeah, and a final 'snap'." "In this situation……" "Yes, the 'snap' must have come from the penis." "Interesting..." Thiver said, "assuming I'm trans." "what?" "Let's say I used to have a penis and I don't have one, so you feel safe, don't you?" "No." "why?" "There will still be hallucinations." "what?" "Just like in war, when a person loses an arm and still thinks it's still growing on him, there is an illusion." "But it wasn't your penis that was lost." "But there will still be hallucinations." "It doesn't make sense." "Completely correct." "Thriller" showed beautiful white and neat teeth, and Myron stared at them carefully. Unfortunately, the teeth will not tell you the gender of the other party, so let's look at the cleavage. "Do you realize that you're very sexually insecure," she said. "Just because I want to know if a potential sexual partner has a penis?" "A real man doesn't worry about being thought gay." "It's not what other people think that bothers me." "Just a penis." She finished for Myron. "you are right." "I'd still say, you're sexually insecure." Myron shrugged, held up his hands, and said, "Who isn't?" "That's true." She lifted her body, and the polyethylene tights rubbed against the polyethylene chair cushion, making a "clack" sound, "Why didn't you ask me out?" "I think we've discussed that just now." "You find me attractive, don't you? I mean, based on what you've seen." "yes." "And we had a good chat, too?" "yes." "You think I'm interesting and would like to be with me?" "good." "you are single?" He swallowed, "You're right." "So?" "Again, I'm not personal..." "It's still the penis that gets in the way." "exactly." "Shiver" straightened up, fiddled with the zipper of the neckline, and pulled it up a little, "Hey, this is just a first date, it doesn't have to be naked." Myron thought for a while, "Oh." "It sounds like you're a little surprised." "No... I mean..." "Maybe I won't get started so easily." "I misjudged... I mean, you seem to be hanging around this bar all the time." "so what?" "I don't think most customers here will pretend to be reserved and, to quote Woody Allen, 'how could I misread the signs?'" "Thriller" said without the slightest hesitation, "Play "Again, Sam"" "If you were a woman," said Myron, "I think I might love you." "Thanks. But if the penis problem is bothering you so much, if you've really noticed the character of this bar, why are you here?" "Good question." "so?" "So what?" "Why don't you ask me out?" "Trembling" still has ambiguity in his tone, "We can hold hands, maybe have a kiss or something, you can even sneak your hand under my shirt and caress. When you wink, it's like you can't wait to do it." "I didn't wink," said Myron. "are not there?" "If I was watching just now, notice, I said if, purely for the purpose of distinguishing gender, I can guarantee it." "Thank you for being so direct. But my point is that we can go out to have a meal or watch a movie together, and it doesn't have to be genital contact." Myron shook his head, "I'm still not sure." "Aha, but don't you like a little mystery?" "In many cases, I like to be mysterious, but when it comes to the contents of the pants, oh, I should say, I am a very traditional man." "Shiver" shrugged, "I still don't understand what you're here for?" "I'm here to find someone." Myron took out a photo of Cru Hyde, "Have you seen him?" "Shiver" looked at the photo and frowned, "You said that you are a sports agent." "Yes, he used to be my client." "once?" "He was killed." "Is he a baseball player?" Myron nodded, "Have you seen him here?" "Thriller" grabbed a piece of paper and hurriedly wrote something down, "This is my phone number, Myron. If you have time, call me." "Do you know the man in the photo?" Trembling handed the paper to Myron, jumped off the stool, twisted and walked away.Myron watched her movements, looking for a, er, secret weapon.At this time, Big Cindy touched him with his elbow, and he almost fell off the stool. "This is Pat," said Big Cindy. Bartender Pat looked like someone Aceh Bunker would hire to guard his turf.Pat is about fifty-four, short, gray-haired, with slumped shoulders and a tired expression. Even his gray and yellow beard hangs down, as if he sees through the troubles of the world.Pat's sleeves were rolled up, revealing his hairy Popeye forearms.Myron sincerely hoped that this was a man, and the complicated situation of this place gave him a headache. Behind Pat is a large mirror, and the wall next to the mirror is printed in pink—Customer Hall of Fame, and the wall is covered with framed heads of famous right-wingers—Pat Buchanan, J. Ray Falwell, Pat Robertson, Newt King Leach, Jesse Holmes Pat noticed that Myron was looking at the pictures on the wall and asked, "Didn't you notice?" "Notice what?" "These big anti-gay people have gender-neutral names, Pat, Chris, Jesse, Jerry, some of these names can be men or women. See what I'm trying to say?" Myron nodded, "Huh?" "Also, Newt. What kind of name is Newt?" Pat added. "I mean, with a name like that, how are you going to grow up and develop healthy sexual attitudes?" "I have no idea." "Want to hear my theory?" Pat shrugged, wiping the bar with a rag. "These bastards must have been teased a lot as kids, so they became sexually hostile." "Interesting theory, but isn't your name Pat too?" "Yeah, I hate gays too," Pat said, "but they're big when they tip." Pat winked at Big Cindy, and Big Cindy winked at him.The jukebox had changed tracks, and Lou Rawls crooned "Love Is Flying in the Air," with perfect timing. Some of the headshots had "autographs" and a photo of Jesse Hermes that said, "I'm sore and longing for love and kisses, Jesse." That's raw.There are also a few symbols representing kisses on it, and a large lipstick hickey. It looks like Jesse lowered his head from the photo frame and drank a wet kiss.I can't stand it. Pat started wiping a beer mug with a rag, casually.Myron almost thought he was going to spit into the glass like in the westerns. "Want something?" "Are you a sports fan?" Myron asked. "Are you doing polls?" Seemingly unsuccessful, Myron tried again. "Have you ever heard of the name Cru Hyde?" Myron watched his reaction carefully, but didn't notice anything unusual. It seemed that this guy was a seasoned bartender, who rarely showed his true feelings like the players in "Baywatch".Hmm, weird, how did he remember this episode? "I just asked you..." "Names mean nothing to me." Big Cindy said, "Please, Pat." He glanced at Big Cindy, "You heard me, Big Cindy, I don't know this person." Myron asked, "Have you never heard of Crewe Hyde?" "yes." "Where's the New York Yankees?" "Since Mikel retired, I don't care about this team anymore." Myron put a picture of Crew Hyde on the bar. "Have you seen him here?" Someone clamored for a drink, and Pat delivered it.When he came back, he asked Big Cindy, "Is this guy a cop?" "No." Big Cindy said. "Then, the answer is no." "What if I were a policeman?" Myron asked. "Then, the answer is: no...sir." Myron noticed that Pat hadn't looked at the photo at all. "Maybe, I will add a few words, for example, I am too busy to look at the faces of customers, and people who come here, especially celebrities, will not be willing to show their real faces." "I see," said Myron, pulling out his wallet and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill. "What if I gave you a picture of Ulysses S. Grant?" At this point, the jukebox switched to another track, "Smile for Me, Rosemary," by Aircraft.Flying Machines - Myron has always remembered the name of this band. "Put away your money," Pat said, "put away your picture, and put away your questions. I don't want to get in trouble." "Does the guy in the photo mean trouble?" "I haven't looked at the picture at all, man, and I don't want to, sorry." Big Cindy interjected, "Pat," she said, "don't you really want to help—" She flapped her eyelashes like two crabs with their belly up in the hot sun, "me?" "Hey, Big Cindy, I love you, you know that. But what if I walked into Leather & Sexuality with the picture and asked this and that? Would you help?" Big Cindy thought for a while, "Maybe she doesn't want to." "That's right, I still have guests to greet." "Well then," said Myron, holding up the picture, "maybe I should ask around, show this picture to your guests, ask some questions, and maybe I'll keep an eye on the place a bit less covertly, and give the Folks at this upscale entertainment venue to take some pictures." Pat shook his head and smiled. "You know, you're a stupid bastard." "I'm going to do it," Myron said. "I'm going to take a video camera and station it on the steps of the bar, though I don't want to." Pat watched Myron, his eyes hard to read, a little hostile, but mostly tired.He said, "Big Cindy, get out for a while." "No." "Then I won't say it." Myron turned to Big Cindy and nodded, but Big Cindy shook his head.Myron pulled her aside, "Any questions?" "You shouldn't be saying threatening words here, Mr Polita." "I know what I'm doing." "I remind you, this place is dangerous, I can't leave you here alone." "You go out, nothing will happen, I can take care of myself." Big Cindy frowned, her face like a freshly painted totem pole. "I'm not going out." "We have no choice." She sighed, like a small demonstration of the power of magma from Mount Vesuvius, "Be careful yourself." "I will." Big Cindy moved her bulky body towards the door.The bar was full of people, and Big Cindy's actions obviously required a lot of space, but the crowd quickly gave way to a passage, and the scene was comparable to that of Moses splitting the waters of the Red Sea.When Big Cindy had completely disappeared through the door, Myron turned to Pat, "Can you speak now?" "Okay, you stupid bastard." Without warning, Pat's two hands had reached under Myron's arm, and his fingers were locked behind his neck, holding his neck under the standard shoulder.Pat's hand was heavy, pulling Myron's arms behind him like he was grabbing chicken wings, and Myron immediately felt the burning sensation of tearing from his shoulder blades. A voice whispered in Myron's ear: "Want to dance, the girl of my dreams?" When it comes to hand-to-hand combat, Myron is not as good as Wen, but it's not bad, so he knows that if the opponent's skill is good, it's impossible to break free from the grip of the neck under the shoulder. Tricks.If you're standing, you can manage to stomp on the back of the opponent's foot, but that's only against idiots, and idiots don't have the speed and strength, and besides, Myron isn't standing yet. Myron's elbows were held high in the air like a marionette, his face helplessly exposed.The guy with the puppet was wearing a cardigan, actually a buff cardigan, cardigan, for God's sake.Myron struggled hard, but to no avail. The arm in the cardigan pulled Myron's head back, and then slammed into the bar hard.The first to bear the brunt was of course the face, Miron couldn't move, he could only close his eyes, retract his chin, and let his nose avoid the direct impact.But the head inevitably hit the shiny teak countertop hard, the skull hummed and vibrated, the forehead seemed to be split, dizziness, and starry eyes. The other hand grabbed Myron's feet, and Myron was lifted into the air. In the dizziness, he could feel himself moving. Several hands quickly emptied his pockets. A door opened, and Myron was lifted. After entering a dark room, the hand holding him was released, and Myron was thrown to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and his tailbone hurt.The whole process, from being held by the shoulders to falling to the floor, took about 8 seconds. The light was turned on, and Myron touched his forehead, and felt something sticky—blood.He raised his head and looked at his assailant. two women. No, two transvestites with blond wigs, one with an early 1980s mall girl cut - lots of spikes, more laughable than a bedwetter and the other - a buff cardigan The cardigan, the cardigan and the one with some mothers on it—like Veronica Lake at some cheesy rave. As Myron tried to stand up, Veronica Lake screamed and then kicked Myron hard in the chest with a side kick.Myron heard a "poof" from his mouth, and sat down heavily on the ground.He mechanically fumbled for the phone, trying to press the speed dial button to ask Wen for help, but soon, he stopped. The phone is gone. He looked up and saw his phone in the mall girl's hand, damn it.He quickly looked around, and the back of the bar and the bartender Pat could be clearly seen here.He remembered the mirror, which was a one-way mirror. The customers outside seemed to be a mirror, and the people behind the glass knew everything about the situation outside.It is difficult to get money from the cash drawer here because you don't know if someone is watching you from behind. The walls were paneled with soundproofing cork, and the floor was cheap linoleum, presumably for easy cleaning, he thought.Even so, there were still specks of blood on it, which had dried up and were obviously not his own blood, but it was clear enough not to be mistaken for anything else.Myron knew why: to intimidate. It's a standard beating room, one that's found in many places, especially sports venues, though not as popular now as it used to be.There was a time when an unruly fan wasn't just escorted off the field, but stadium security would take him to a small room like this and teach him a lesson.This kind of behavior is concealed and safe. What can unruly fans do afterwards?He was so drunk that he probably had a fight in the stands, and the security guards gave him a couple of extra bruises that no one could tell where they came from.Even if the unruly fan threatens to sue or inform the media, the director of the arena can also sue him for drunkenness, assaulting other spectators, and anything else they can think of-they have a dozen security guards to testify, but the unruly fans are very easy. It's hard to find support from even one person. So unruly fans had no choice but to swallow it, and that's how the beating room survived, and maybe still exists in some places now. Veronica Lake giggled, and her voice was too soft. "Want to dance, girl of your dreams?" he or she asked again. "Let's wait for a slow song," Myron said. Here is the third cross-dresser entering the room, a redhead who looks like Bonnie Franklin, the spunky mother from the old TV show Seizing the Day.In fact, the similarities between them are odd: a perfect blend of decisiveness and affectation, exuberant and commanding. "Where's Schneider?" Myron asked. No one answered. "Stand up, girl of your dreams," Veronica Lake said. "Blood on the floor," said Myron. "what?" "The effect is good, but it's a bit too exaggerated, don't you think so?" Veronica Lake raised her right foot and pulled off the heel, revealing the mechanism hidden inside.The heel is actually a case, a scabbard with a sharp blade hidden inside.Veronica performed a beautiful martial arts move for Myron, a high kick, a knife flashing coldly. Bonnie Franklin and the mall girl giggled. Myron suppressed the fear in his heart and looked at Veronica Lake firmly, "Are you a novice?" Veronica stopped, "What?" "I mean, don't you think your heel dagger outfit is a little too much?" It's by no means Myron's best joke, but it just needs to last a little longer.Veronica looks at the mall girl, and the mall girl looks at Bonnie Franklin.Suddenly, Veronica threw a sweeping kick, and the heel dagger whizzed through the air.Miron only saw the cold light coming, and quickly rolled back, but the dagger still pierced his shirt and cut his flesh.Myron let out a soft cry, and looked down with his eyes wide open. The wound was not deep and was bleeding. The three were strutting, fists clenched, and Bonnie Franklin was holding something in her hand, perhaps a black stick.Myron didn't like it. He tried to stand up, but Veronica kicked him again.Myron jumped up, and the short sword cut his calf.Myron could almost feel the dagger touching the shin, brushing lightly against the bone. Myron's heart began to beat wildly, and the blood flowed even more.God, it's heartbreaking to see yourself bleeding.His breathing was too rapid, Myron reminded himself, keep calm and don't forget to think. He pretended to rush towards Bonnie Franklin, who was holding a stick on the left, and then turned suddenly to the right. He hit the mall girl who was approaching him hard with his clenched fist, and the knuckles hit her under the eye, and the mall girl fell down. . At this moment, Myron felt his heart stop beating. With a "hiss", Myron felt a burst of pain behind his knee.Immediately, he became dizzy, unable to stand upright, and the burning pain from the nerve bundle behind his knee spread throughout his body like an electric current.He looked behind him. Bonnie Franklin had just touched him with a stick.His legs lost the strength to support him, and he fell to the ground again, writhing violently like a fish on the deck of a fishing boat, his stomach shrank into a ball, and the feeling of vomiting came over him. "This thing is only set on the lowest power right now," said Bonnie Franklin, her voice high-pitched like a real girl's, "just to get the cow's attention." Myron raised his head, trying hard to control the trembling of his body.Veronica raised her leg and brought the dagger on the heel close to Myron's face, and as long as she stomped hard, his life was over.Bonnie once again showed the electric baton in her hand, and another tremor ran through Myron's body.He looked in the one-way mirror, but there was no sign of Big Cindy or any reinforcements. what to do? Bonnie Franklin said, "What are you doing here?" Miron focused on the electric baton, thinking about how to avoid another blow from it. "I'm asking about someone," he said. The mall girl recovered and stood beside Myron covering her face. "He hit me!" His or her tone was a little lower, and the shock and pain had stripped her of her feminine appearance a little. Myron didn't respond. "You bitch!" The mall girl gave a vicious kick that seemed to mistake Myron's ribcage for a football.Miron looked at the kicked leg, then at the heel dagger and the electric baton. He had no choice but to close his eyes and bear the blow. He fell to the ground. Bonnie Franklin continued, "Who are you asking about?" It's no secret, "Crue Hyde." "why?" "Because I want to know if he's been here?" "why?" It might not have been wise to tell them that they were looking for Crewe's killer, who might be in the room. "He's my client." "So what?" "Bitch!" the mall girl yelled again, and kicked Miron again at the bottom of his ribcage, the pain was excruciating.Myron swallowed the bile welling up in his mouth, and glanced at the one-way mirror again, but there was still no sign of Big Cindy.Blood continued to flow from the wounds on his chest and legs, and his heart was still shaking from the electric shock he had just received.He looked into Veronica Lake's eyes, and they looked calm, and so did Wen's, and maybe all of Tall's eyes. "Who do you work for?" Bonnie asked. "Not for anyone." "Then why do you care so much whether he's been here?" "I'm just trying to figure things out," Myron said. "What's up?" "Just ordinary things." Bonnie Franklin looked at Veronica Lake, both of them nodded, and then Bonnie Franklin raised the electric baton, "It's an ordinary thing, I can't accept such an answer." Fear oppressed Myron's heart, "Wait..." "No, I don't think so." Bonnie Franklin extended the electric prod to Myron. Myron opened his eyes wide, but in fact, he had no other choice, he had to make a last-ditch effort, if he was hit by the electric baton again, he would have no room to resist and could only resign himself to fate, hoping that Veronica would not will take his life. He had planned for this action for 10 seconds.Before long, Myron rolled back, stood up, and fired himself like a cannonball without warning. The 3 transvestites stepped back, preparing for his attack.Under such circumstances, however, attacking was tantamount to suicide, and Myron was well aware of this.There were 3 of them, 2 of them had weapons, and at least one of them was an expert. Myron had no chance of winning, and only by being caught by surprise could he have a chance to escape. This was exactly Myron's strategy.Myron did not rush at them. Instead, rush toward the one-way mirror. With all his strength, Myron slammed his body into the mirror with rocket speed.By the time the 3 realized what he wanted to do, it had already been planned.Myron closed his eyes tightly, clenched his hands into fists, and slammed his weight against the glass, just like Superman in the movie.He had no choice but to go all out, either smash the glass or die himself. Glass was smashed. With a loud and crisp sound, Myron flew out, and the glass shards scattered all over the place.When he landed, Myron huddled himself tightly into a ball, and began to roll as soon as he touched the ground. The broken glass pierced his skin. He ignored the pain and continued to roll, hitting the bar heavily, causing the wine bottle to overturn. Big Cindy once mentioned the reputation here, and now this is Myron's only hope, but fortunately, the customers here did not disappoint him. A New York-style mess. Tables were overturned, people started screaming, someone jumped over the bar and fell on Myron, more glass shattered.Myron tried to get up, but his legs couldn't do it, and he saw a door on the right open and the mall girl come out. "Bitch!" The mall girl walked towards Myron, holding Bonnie Fuller's electric baton in her hand. Myron just wanted to escape quickly, but the surroundings were in chaos and he couldn't tell where he was.The mall girl approached step by step. Suddenly, she disappeared. Like the scene in the cartoon, the big dog punches the big stupid cat and the big stupid cat flies across the room, and the oversized fist stays there for a few seconds. This time, though, it's Big Cindy who owns the oversized fist. People, shards of glass, and chairs were flying in the air, but Big Cindy ignored them completely. She helped Myron up and put it on her shoulders, just like a firefighter who rescued people on the TV news.At this time, the siren whistled in the distance, piercing the dark night sky.

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Notes: