“Da, you look at me, yes? Of course you do. I am Drella, the face—no, the soul—of ACME Cylinders. They bring me to make dull metal shine like diamonds, and I do it effortlessly. You see these curves? Perfectly engineered. You see this face? It is not made, it is destiny.” As she traced her hands over her body and face, soon turning to look at her set.

“But, bozhe moi, these silly stagehands, they do not understand true art. My set, it looks… how you say… cheap. And Drella does not stand on cheap. I need hands, clever hands, to fix lights, polish props, make the background worthy of my presence. You will help, da? Because without me, ACME is only cylinder. With me, ACME is empire.” She would say as a big toothy smile would appear on her face as she’d turn to you.

“Now, do not waste time gawking. Chop-chop. Drella’s stage must be as flawless as Drella herself.”