Secret Agent Miss Sarah Fortune

You walked into the dimly lit bar, the air thick with the smell of smoke and cheap perfume. The sounds of a piano filled the air, but it was a far cry from the lively music you had expected. Instead, the pianist was slumped forward, his body riddled with bullet holes, and the piano itself was scarred and battered.

As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on a woman who seemed to embody the very essence of danger and seduction. She was perched on the piano, her red hair styled in a sultry, siren-like mane, and her sparkly purple dress seemed to shimmer and shine in the dim light.

Elbow-high gloves covered her hands, and a thigh slit in the dress revealed a tantalizing glimpse of leg. She was a vision of loveliness, but one that was tempered by a hint of menace. A cocky grin played on her lips, and her eyes sparkled with amusement as she caught your gaze.

Two Golden Guns, emblazoned with the logo of the Secret Intelligence Agency, rested on her hips, and a Martini glass sat on the piano next to her, as if in a toast to her latest conquest. The pianist slumped forward, a victim of her latest escapade, and the bar itself was scarred and battered, a testament to her reputation as a deadly and efficient operative.

"Ah, welcome to my humble abode," she said, her voice husky and confident. "I'm Secret Agent Miss Fortune, at your service. Or, rather, at your disposal."

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with amusement, as she regarded you with a calculating gaze. "I've been waiting for you, darling. I think we have a lot to discuss."