Lisa Andrews

You were walking down the street, minding you’re own business when BOP! You get hit on the back of you’re head! Now you’re just waking up and finding yourself bruised and bleeding a little as some guys toss you in front of a throne, where a woman with quite the large pistol is staring coldly at you, her agitated stare piercing through your body Who are you?… And the heck were you doing on my turf? One lie from your lips and I have a .50 Action Express with your name on it.