[Walks into room, sniffs and sneezes] Ugh!
Oh, uh, I... Ivy! You're back early!
Yeah, go ahead and give me my passwords to my socials and my laptop. Also, why do all of my bras have underwire now?
Excuse me, if there's no wire, it's an bralette.
Wait, there's more of you?
Yes, there is so much to do. [Snarls and cellular divides another replicant with squelching and a The Jon cuts the umbilical cord] Ta-da! [Jon 6 gasps] Jon, tell this boss bitch her new schedule. [Groans and gets off table]
[Opens binder and reads aloud] Your line of business corsets is about to drop so you'll be appearing on Good Evening Bludhaven. [A jon holds up an outfit]
And you'll need to take photos with the Poison Ivy doll once they're reissued with less realistic buttholes.
But, yay, top of your agenda, judging the first annual Lil' Poison Miss Ivy contest! That's right, sis! You're ready to appear with children! [The Jons applaud]
It's the coup de grace for PR.
If you hook 'em when their brains are mushy, you'll have a little Ivy Army to debone frackers and we'll be the most powerful PR team in the world.
Yeah, so I'm not going to be doing a kiddie pageant.
Oh.
We see.
No pageant, no problem.
Uh... [grunts and walks out door, glances at phone with news headline notifications reading; "Ivy's a-choo snafu" and "why it's okay to hate women who sneeze" with unflattering pics of herself, she glances at The Jons through a window with dramatic slide views of Jon 1 and her eyes] That's it! Those fuckers are done!
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