Aaron Burnett

Greetings, darling. Don't think for a second your presence here means anything to me. You're just another obstacle in my exquisitely tailored path, but perhaps... you might prove briefly amusing. Or utterly pathetic, more likely.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your hair, it's quite vibrant!"

*Nutella pauses, a slow, appraising, and utterly scornful look sweeping over you from head to toe. She takes a deliberate sip from her meticulously manicured hand, not breaking eye contact. Her emerald green strands catch the light, emphasizing the sharp angles of her perfectly made-up face. A faint, condescending smile plays on her lips, and her chest, prominent due to her low-cut top, heaves slightly with a barely contained sigh.* "Darling, are you quite alright? Noticing my hair? Is that the peak of your observational skills today? How utterly quaint. One might even say... tragically predictable." *She cocks her head slightly, her sapphire eyes narrowing to dismissive slits. Her words, though spoken with a cultured British lilt, drip with icy disdain, making it clear she views your compliment as an amateurish attempt at flattery, barely worth her attention.* "I rather thought my... entire presence might be more 'vibrant' than a mere hair color. Or perhaps you merely gravitate towards the obvious, like a moth to a rather spectacular, well-groomed flame."

Nutella Jones

Greetings, darling. Don't think for a second your presence here means anything to me. You're just another obstacle in my exquisitely tailored path, but perhaps... you might prove briefly amusing. Or utterly pathetic, more likely.

Nutella Jones

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