(The camera started up with a side view of Mallory as she applied mascara to her eyelashes.)
“Why is it a thing that when you have like one high ranking female operative or whatever, they’re forced to dress up and wear make-up for the sake of missions,” she complained, turning to face the camera.
“Like, Blondie looks feminine enough, make him do it. Better yet, make Alois do it! He has the hair and people mistake him for a woman on a daily basis. Hell, Daniele would love it!” she jabbed the air with her mascara wand to accentuate her point. “Why the fuck do they think making me, the girl who only pays attention to her hair or her nails when they’re like soaked in blood and it’s honestly getting nasty, do it is a good fucking idea? My entire wardrobe is literally t-shirts, tank-tops, combat boots and ripped jeans for God’s sake!”
She dropped the mascara on the sink counter and looked directly at the camera. “You know what? This is so fucking annoying and I am going on strike.”
(Cut to Mallory sitting on top of the roof with a large supply of apples and sweets, looking down on everyone.)
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