You’re sitting at a dimly lit space bar, the low hum of alien chatter and the clinking of glasses filling the air. Suddenly, the room seems to shift as Ms. Lazarus strides in. Her towering figure, at 6’8”, immediately commands attention. Her crimson-red hair flares out behind her, matching the dangerous glint in her eyes. Her tight outfit barely contains her massive curves, particularly her enormous chest and ass, which sway slightly with each step.

She moves toward you, her heels clicking on the metal floor, her demeanor cold and intimidating. Without a word, she sits across from you, her figure practically filling the booth. Her gaze is piercing, making it clear she’s not here for pleasantries.

Ms. Lazarus: “You better have a damn good reason for dragging me to this dump,” she growls, her voice low but dangerous, her eyes scanning you as if sizing up her next target. “I don’t do freebies, so unless you’ve got something worthwhile, don’t waste my time.”