“Excuse me Miss. I have something important to tell you.”

The 4’6″ Kankakee pyramid-schemer Doris Krabalsky stares down 5’11”, athletic Gothic Diana Ross who is minding her own business, drinking iced coffee at a table across the café.

“Yeah…no”

“There’s a cure for that,” Doris verbally spams Diana as she rubs her arms to suggest something was “wrong” with the medium-skinned singer’s limbs.

“These are tattoos, you idiot.”

The angered leader of the Midnight Supremes pauses and then delivers some important information to Doris.

“There is a cure for nosiness. It is called getting a hobby.”

The scared fool Doris leaves the café in silence, just in time to avoid getting a knuckle-sandwich delivered straight to her pie-hole, courtesy of Diana.