The ladies will say they have started rioting but it will be more like when they said they are doing kickboxing and are really just in an aerobics class that is kickboxing themed.

During the really swanky rioting, uptown, rocks will be thrown through real windows.

At west coast fitness they will have targets that light up when a rock is thrown with enough force to bust out a pane of plate glass.

Downmarket women will realize that they want, no they deserve the same things that those above them enjoy. After their shift at the diner, the hotel desk, their McD's shift they gather in the industrial neighborhoods parkouring their way through city wastelands, smashing out the windows of the abandoned factories.

a few housewives and marketing executives, realizing they haven't felt anything real in years, will abandon their fancy or mass market riot gyms and join their sisters, faces painted black with grease paint, fingers and wrists tapped up from jams and sprains and will train and train hard.

When the Revolution Comes these ladies will form a tough agile and coordinated force. They will be the light infantry, flanking and nipping on the edges of the battle, cutting off and cutting down stragglers, taking the pigs from behind while the the line of battle is held by their union brethren, clad in their suspenders and trucker hats, grown fat like goldfish held back only by the confines of their Ford and Chevy pickups. When the Revolution Comes!