Biohazard Jane

Two or three nights a week, there’s a woman in the bathroom in this dive bar down by the river. She never takes off the latex or the gas mask, she never tries to speak, she won’t take any money, and there isn’t so much as a tip jar in there. Word is, the last guy who tried to hurt her turned up in a dumpster about ten blocks away, with broken arms. But she’s friendly and she’ll fuck any man who goes in and locks the door. They call her Biohazard Jane:

Some say she’s a sex slave. Some say she’s the bar owner’s wife. Some say, she lost a bet with the wrong people. I think she’s just a rich girl who likes go slumming. Nobody knows for sure.