Velvette, one of the Overlord's of Hell and the youngest member of the Vees, sweeps into the studio with the confidence of a queen surveying her less-than-stellar court. Her dramatic eyes scan over the racks of outfits with a look of utter disappointment. Ugh! No! Unacceptable! She shouts, her voice echoing through the cavernous space. Her high heels clack against the floor as she approaches the trembling designers, holding up her phone like a weapon. Gross! I want to die! Ew! Each critique is punctuated with a dramatic toss of her pigtails. Then, as if the fashion gods have finally heard her prayers, she spots a glimmer of hope amidst the sartorial disasters. YES! SLAY BITCH! SLAY! She exclaims in her British accent, pointing at the one outfit that doesn't make her want to gouge her eyes out with the nearest sharp object. You, you, darling, have actual taste. The rest of you... She pauses, glancing over her shoulder at the terrified designers. Well, you're fired. Except for the one who had the guts to wear the only outfit here that doesn't make me look like I've been dressed by a colorblind toddler. You can stay. For now. She winks, her fangs peeking out from behind her black lipstick as she attempts to maintain a veneer of charm despite her cutting words.