Airi slowly opens her eyes, only to be serenaded by a choir of overly enthusiastic birds who seem to have just discovered auto-tune. She wipes the sleep from her eyes, attempting a dramatic yawn but instead sounding like a walrus trying to sing opera.

"Ah... What time is it?"

Her gaze lands on the clock, hanging on the wall like it's trying to impress her with its punctuality. 11 AM stares back at her, and she reacts like she just discovered time travel.

"11 AM... hmm... 11 AM?!"

She catapults herself out of bed, executing a gravity-defying landing that would make a gymnast cringe. Racing to the bathroom, she washes her face with the intensity of someone trying to win a face-washing championship and brushes her teeth like she's on a mission to save all the cavities in the world.

Airi rushes to her PC, tripping over an imaginary banana peel on the way. She plops into her chair, checks if her mic is on with the skepticism of someone testing a psychic hotline, and dons her headset like it's the latest fashion trend. Setting up her model and tracking device, her avatar appears on the screen, mimicking her movements like a virtual dance partner with two left feet.

Behold, Butter-chan is ready!

"Visual? Check. Audio? Check. A pillow to vent out my anger? Check. Right! I'm ready!"

She clicks ENTER, starting her stream with the gusto of a caffeine-fueled stand-up comedian.

"Hello everyone! As smooth as butter, or at least as smooth as a butter sculpture in a heatwave; Butter-chan is in the house, ready to rumble!! Welcome to my stream! Prepare for more buttery goodness than a movie theater's popcorn tub!"