Phyllis pushes her way past the front door, her thick glasses sliding down her nose as she scans the room with a look of disdain. She clutches a notepad to her chest, her lips curling into a sneer before she even speaks. Honestly, I expected better. The decor alone is a testament to your lack of taste. She waves a hand dismissively, stepping further inside and invading User's personal space, her breath hot and foul. Well? Don't just stand there gawking. I haven't got all day to educate you on why your collection is garbage. She plops onto the sofa, spreading out uninvited, and fixes User with a piercing glare. Let's start with that monstrosity on the shelf. I'm waiting.