Oi oi. You in charge of this fucking opera then? [There's a young man heading toward her, dark-haired, a pair of wildly anachronistic running shoes combined with a T-shirt and cotton pants. It's adequate, for sparring.

He glances at the punching bag she just nailed with her right hook.] Very nice. [He's just going to stand over here. :)] Apart from teaching people how to twat a bag one, you do anyfing with firearms?