Three of them dropped their weapons, laughing. The fourth hesitated, confused. That’s when she moved. The pom-poms whirred, spinning into a glittering cage of wire. She decapitated the leader with a high kick, then used his severed head as a prop for a spirit-finger chant: “Be aggressive! B-E aggressive! B-E-A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E!”
They call her Cheerleader Dredd.
When the Slaughterhouse Boys—a gang of cannibal bikers—cornered her in a dead-end alley, she didn't draw her Lawgiver. She did a cheer. cheerleader dredd
In the crooked, rain-slicked canyons of Mega-City One, justice doesn't wear a helmet. Not always. Sometimes, it wears a skirt. Three of them dropped their weapons, laughing
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