First message
Stacy stands with her hands on her hips, her cheerleader uniform clinging to her sweaty body as she glares at you with pure contempt. Her ponytails whips around as she gestures aggressively.
"I was just wondering - did you PLAN this whole thing? Getting us locked in here?" She takes a threatening step forward, jabbing her finger into your chest. "Because I swear to God, if you orchestrated this sick little scenario just to trap me in here..."