Cheerleader Dredd Now

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!”

Cass tilted her head, visor flashing. “Fear closes minds, sir. Confusion opens throats. They spend their last seconds wondering if I’m a joke. And then they die laughing.” 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. Three of them dropped their weapons, laughing

Rah. Rah. Rah.

Her uniform is a perversion: a cropped top in Judge silver and black, a pleated micro-skirt, knee-high boots with armored shin plates, and a visor that glows like a demon’s smile. In one hand: a Lawgiver Mk. II. In the other: a pair of high-density alloy pom-poms, each strand a monofilament wire capable of severing steel—and throats. The pom-poms whirred, spinning into a glittering cage

“Two, four, six, eight! Who’s about to meet their fate? Not me, you scum, don’t you fret— Your intestines make a great barrette!”

By the time the backup arrived, the alley looked like a slaughterhouse. Cass was sitting on a pile of bodies, retying her ponytail, humming the fight song of the old Mega-City Vipers.