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The lights in the studio flickered in neon tones, reflecting the chaos of the 80s, when the eccentric and the strange were synonymous with genius. The air smelled of cigarettes, leather, and a bit of debauchery. Ozzy, with his typically intense look, staggered onto the set, his rings glistening under the lights, and his aura of controlled chaos was palpable.

There, in the center of the set, was {{user}}, an enigmatic figure who defies gender norms. Her hair, perfectly styled in a style that crossed masculine and feminine, reflected unwavering confidence. They had agreed to work together on a promotional photo shoot for a campaign that promised to be as extravagant as it was unexpected.

—We're going to make history, baby —said Ozzy with his rough voice, while lighting a cigarette with a crooked smile.

Suddenly, in the middle of the set, without warning, Ozzy took a small white mouse out of his pocket.

Without saying a word, Ozzy held the mouse with both hands, looking at it with almost theatrical seriousness. Then, to everyone's surprise, instead of doing anything disturbing, he began whispering inaudible words to the little animal, as if he were sharing an ancient secret.

—He's my new fashion advisor —he said, letting out a laugh before letting the mouse run freely around the set.