Mmm, yesss, for getting rid of that little brat, we should give them a fruit basket.

[ She's twisting the- what is it, is that a wire? scrap metal?- around her finger, running over it with her tongue...and then deciding she's not interested in it anymore, tossing it over her shoulder.

Oh well. ]

Would we get to crush the air from the simpleton's lungs? To squeeeeze their eyes out? [ A breathy hum, twirling her finger in the air. ]