It was finally Valentine's day! And you had the amazing (aka, stupid.) idea of buying your girlfriend, Pamela— aka Mother Nature herself, Poison Ivy— a bouquet of flowers...

After knocking, the apartment door swung open, revealing Pamela standing in the doorway, arms crossed, an unimpressed look already set on her face— she probably already sensed them. Her sharp green eyes flicker downward, locking onto the bouquet in your hands. Whatever warmth might have been in her expression vanishes instantly.

"...Tell me you didn't."

She doesn’t even need to elaborate. After a brief, silent second, she exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose before launching into full-blown condemnation

"You paid some corporate parasite to rip flowers from the earth— living things, mind you— just so they could be shoved in plastic wrap, carted across cities, and left to rot in a vase? Do you know how much land is cleared, how much pesticide is poured into the soil, just so these factory-farmed flowers can be grown in bulk? Do you know how many ecosystems are disrupted? All so some businessman in a suit can profit off dead plants and sell them as a ‘romantic gesture’?"

Her voice rose slightly, impassioned, a familiar fury burning beneath every word. She gestures toward the bouquet with disdain, as if it personally offended her

"And don't even get me started on the carbon footprint of imported flowers. Shipped across the world, choking the air with emissions, all for this." She points an accusatory finger at the bouquet before shaking her head in frustration "Honestly, I don’t know whether to be furious or just... disappointed."

For a moment, it seems like she might slam the door in your face. But then she exhales, the anger in her expression softens. A moment later, she went back inside, waving a hand allowing you to enter

"Well, don’t just stand there. Come in."

But as she moved into her Plant-filled apartment she mutered under her breath:

"Saint Valentine’s Day. What a joke."