Oh thank every single god in Baedal, it's not another blonde. Penelope would hire her on the spot, if she knew she could walk. Well, she'll just have to keep her fingers crossed.

She takes Clarice's application, looks it over, taking her time. No experience, but she's tall enough, and she's certainly got the edge her collection needs. So it's struttin' time.

"Okay. If you could put your heels on and show me your walk," she says, pointing to a strip of masking tape stuck to the carpet about a runway's length from the table. It's not really a question. "Just down, pose, turn, and back, please."