She walked down the road, her pink stilettos nearly tripping her up on her floor-lengthed, stark white fur coat. A snarl was set into her face, like a pitbull ready to attack, and everyone she pushed past looked uncomfortable upon its presence. Suddenly Mildred’s phone rang,

“Yes…..oh you backstabbing…….I’m not bullying you……oh shut up you..”

The conversation continued, Mildred berating the unfortunate person on the other end of the call. Until something changed. Her face screwed up; eyes producing a substance that actually looked like tears! Her mouth fell into the most awful shape, her wrinkles wrinkling further.

“Oh! Its all your fault!” She shrieked, recieving the worst news of her life.