AN: Um. The only explanation for this was, frankly, I got really bored. XD Also, apparently, I write unusually well late at night and/or early in the morning. Like 2:00 am, on the dot, which is when I finished this chapter/introduction. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Repo!, the Darrens do as well as TZdunich. Although this chick whose name I am not sure of, I think she's my writer's persona from the Survivor fanfic, she belongs to me. XD (or do I belong to her?)

It was dark and the smog was unusually low to the streets on this night.

Standing on a random street corner, right across from the Wallace's house, was just a teenaged girl in a swishy red trenchcoat and what could have been hooker boots. With cleats attached. Underneath the swishy red trenchcoat seemed to be just regular blue jean shorts and a pink t shirt with a triangular-headed chibified thingy.

Swung over one shoulder was a bizarre cross between a cricket bat and a Chinese wok.

The girl had a smirk on her face as she softly sung the words "Reeee-poooo Maaaaan. Reeee-poooo Maaaaan."

It was clear she had a death wish, or some odd morbid fascination. What kind of nutjob goes searching for the Repo Man, the Legal Assassin, the Night Surgeon?

Somebody who had a mission, that's who. This girl wasn't an ordinary teenager. That much was clear from the outfit she was wearing and the weapon she was carrying.

This girl wanted to be the first assistant to the Repo Man. The first assistant ever. Not like those stupid GeneCops. Those people were idiots. But then again, pretty much all of the little people at Geneco were morons. They were the ones who gave her this idea, the ones who gave her all the information she could ever need…

She was going to put this plan into action as soon as she tracked down the Repo Man. It wasn't very hard. She knew who he was under that helmet. Under that bucket-like helmet, with the zydrate-blue goggles attached, showing only his cold hazel-green eyes.

He was Nathan Wallace. Hence why she was outside his house, her red coat blending in awfully well with the black buildings. She couldn't help but start to whistle a Blind Mag song.

Wait! Something was coming out of the building. Aha! Target in sight. One Nathan Wallace, his shiny and swishy pleather trenchcoat swishing away behind him. His face wasn't visible through the bucket-like mask but she knew it was him. Now to follow him and hopefully not get caught.

It was easier than she originally planned. The smog made a perfect cover, and with the neon lights glaring through the mist, her red coat blended in near perfectly.

From the shadows, she watched him chase a scalpel slut . She couldn't help but cheer silently when he had the whore cornered and disemboweled her with ease. The trenchcoat'd teen wasn't a bad person by nature, just the sight of a badass guy ripping apart what might have been a prostitute amused her. Plus she was bored and anything exciting would have made her happy. Hell, anything gory and involving blood. She wasn't picky.

Sooner or later, either he would find her or she would have to confront him.

She chose the latter.

Sweeping out of the shadows, her scarlet trenchcoat billowing out around her, she cut an impressive figure. But the Repo Man was nearly a foot and a half taller than her, and the effect of her badassery was lost.

The Repo Man let out a low guttural growl at the sight of her and brandished his scalpel, it's blunt tip gleaming in the murky darkness. "Who the fuck are you?"

She glanced over her shoulder, just in case. Moments like this made her extra paranoid. "They call me M. Just M."

The Repo man scoffed, his voice muffled under his bucket-like helmet. She could see the skin around his eyes bunch as he made a face under the mask, his skin tinted blue by the goggles. 'Just M, huh? Don't you know who I am?" The next words he spoke chilled her to the bone, and although his voice was muffled, she could feel the gravelly harshness practically make the air vibrate around them as he leaned closer to her. "Don't you know what I could do to you?"

She shivered inwardly but remained cool, calm and collected. "Of course I know. I'm not stupid. You think I didn't research everything I could about you before I hunted you down like this? C'mon. I'm not a moron. I know everything there is to know about the Repo Man, the Legal Assassin, the Night Surgeon."

"Oh-ho? If that's true, then you should be even more afraid of what I'm capable of. I don't feel remorse. Not for anybody, especially not for a weak sniveling girl like you."

This got her totally pissed. She launched herself at the Repo Man, pressing her wok-bat-combo to his exposed throat, standing on her toes to reach his neck. She curled her lips into a snarl. "I am not weak."

He didn't exactly back off, per se, but he could tell she meant business, and his eyes narrowed.

He slashed outwards with his scalpel, and, quick as lightning, she dodged, and parried the swipe with her cricket bat. He jabbed towards and she stepped to the side and blocked the move. His scalpel lodged in the flat side of the bat. She jerked the scalpel out of his hand and pulled the embedded object out of her bat with ease.

She twirled the scalpel between her fingers, slinging the bat-wok over her shoulders with her other hand. "I told you I'm not weak."

"Heh, so you've said." He exhaled, tightening his hands into fists with a soft squeak. "Now why the hell are you here anyway?"

"I wanna become a Repo Girl." She replied, cocking her head to the side. "I went to GeneCo but they said I was too young and stuff."

Too young? How old was this kid?

"So, uh. Kid. How old are you anyway?"

"Sixteen. Gonna be seventeen in a few months." She held the scalpel out to him. "Is that too young to be disemboweling debtors?"

He snatched the weapon from her grasp, examining it for damage. "Looks like you got yourself a new job, kid."

She grinned, looking manic in the reddish streetlight. "Yess.." She growled, stretching out the s, making it sound like she was hissing through gritted teeth.

"Okay then."

He glanced to the corpse at their feet.

"First job."

He tossed some thick rubber gloves at her with one hand, they hit her square in the chest, bouncing off to her waiting, outstretched hands.

"Prep the defaulted organs for transport."

AN: well, uh. I dunno. Review, I guess?
Cheers. TFFLM