Previously 

"Looking good out there, ladies, all the way to Spaulding Square. You hear me, ladies? Good, real good. Adiós,".

  "I can’t wait to get home! First thing I’m gonna do is hit the sheets!", cried a tired Papi. All nodded their heads in approval. It had been a long night, one they would never forget. The sooner it was over, the better. "Don’t get too cocky. We’re not home free until we’ve made it all the way home," said Bette calmly. She wanted to celebrate like the others, but she had to keep her head clear if she wanted to make sure her gang got out of this alive. "Aw, don’t rain on my parade," said Shane dramatically. "Just admit it. You’re just as excited to get home like the-" "End of the line, ladies,". All heads turned towards the angry senior citizen operating the bus. "Excuse me?" said Kit with just a touch of anger. "I said that it’s time to get off my bus," "And why is that?" "I’m on my break,". All jaws dropped open at the statement. "Break? Break!?! You were just on break like thirty minutes ago!" screamed Dana in distress. "Yeah and it’s time for another one. Now, get off my bus," said the man in a monotone bus. "C’mon, guys. Home isn’t that much farther. If we stick to the shadows, we’ll make it there in no time," Bette commanded. And with that, they were off.

Abandoned Street

  "How many is that, now?", Bette asked. "I count at least ten," answered Tasha. As they walked along the empty street, bumpers began to pop up on rooftops, doorways and alleys. "Who’s territory are we on exactly?" asked Dana as her head swiveled back and forth, looking at the strange women who kept advancing. "They’re the Starving Artists. They don’t really bang, just paint. They try to get their work in galleries, but never really succeed. They’re nothing to worry about," stated Tasha. Just then their warlord stepped out in the open, surrounded by her troops. "Winnie, how nice it is to see you,".

  "Let’s cut the pleasantries, show we Bette? What are you doing on my turf?" said Winne with enough sweetness to rot every single tooth out of your mouth. "Look, we’re just trying to get home. We’re not trying to fight, honest. Just let us pass," said Bette. "Alright. On one condition: put our pieces in the CAC,". "No way in hell,". Bette didn’t make it to where she was by taking in second-rate artists with even lower rate threats. Winnie, not knowing exactly what to do, dropped eye contact with Bette immediately. In the silence that enveloped them, the sound of a faint clucking could be heard. All eyes rose to the porch where a beautiful brunette stood, smiling and clucking.

  "Get inside Helena," urged Winnie. "I don’t know about them, but I’m sure that I have something that would catch your eye," said Helena as she swayed her way in front of Bette. "I doubt it," came Bette’s reply. "Winnie, you’re just gonna let them bump through her after she gave you that horrible review on that piece you slaved over for a year?" smirked Helena. "Pretty soon, every art critic is gonna base everything you’ll ever create on her single review and we’ll be poorer than we already are. Some provider you are," Helena laughed. At this point, Winnie was fuming. She couldn’t let that happen. "Put us in the gallery or else. Last chance , Bette," said Winnie, almost pleading with her. "Fuck you,". With a snap of her fingers, Winnie and her subordinates were gone, taking Helena with them. "You know where those cats are headin’, don’t ya?" asked Tasha. "Yeah, reinforcements,".