Should have seen that one coming - who didn't want that story? Maggie, Clint, and now Joker. She wondered vaguely if it would get any easier to tell. It wasn't something she was proud of, exactly, especially with the way things had gone at her father's house. A man was dead and it was her fault, and everyone kept asking about it. Really, couldn't bygones be bygones?

"...I stabbed him with," She looked thoughtful, "a pen. The heel of my shoe. I think I hit him with the fire extinguisher... a vase, my field hockey stick..." Wow. She'd never really thought to list the objects out, but now it sounded pretty ridiculous. Still, it was a little comforting to know she was able to find that many possible weapons handy. "And, I shot him. And, then my dad shot him again." He must be seven kinds of indestructible to still survive that, but then, hospital time did wonders these days. Another drink, this time more prolonged. "And, I ruined his job. I guess it was a first."