The tree rats were everywhere; in the trees, on the benches, in window sills, in the gardens, circling some guy practicing with a ninja sword - yes, a guy practicing with a ninja sword - and sitting atop the recycling bins that are placed every 30 feet or so. I had just tossed an empty can into one of these ever so convenient mini-recycling centers when I noticed the blonde sitting by herself.
".17 or .22?" I asked again.
The blonde turned to me, measuring me up, drinking me in with her deep blue eyes.