Just a few paces up the alley is a basement-level bar called Numero Uno. 
Signs advertising beer and other attractions wink and flash above the stairs 
leading down to the entrance. It’s a gathering place for losers, fools who
imagine themselves immune to injury and death. Most of them come on cycles, 
which is why Tikki is here now. She walks toward the newly arrived Rapier, the 
Kang held back behind her right hip.