Someone better get with the talky before I start in with the punchy. And I don't mean the fun sort of cheeky-punchy where everything is oversaturated and there's a laugh track. I mean an honest-to-goodness fist to the face. This place is totally creepsville and I don't appreciate it even for a microsecond. That's like, a thousandth of an actual second so my patient toe-tapping faze is like way past over and done with.

This place is like a bad acid trip without any of the perks. Not that--I would know. So in the interest of keeping things copacetic: who wants the gold star? Only available for a limited time here, people.

[She cuts the feed, her chest heaving wildly; she doesn't want any of these strangers to know just how fucking shattered she is by this. Kill yourself, wind up in some wacky cartoon fantasy? Only Buffy Summers. This was her life, and she would shoulder that burden alone.]