Imagine being Jamie Lee Curtis in real life and having to be all like "damn, Son, I mean daughter, you fuckin' fine, all sexy with your tight body and horrific androgynous monster face. You totally pass, both as my daughter and as a Vtuber." when all she really wants to do is win another Oscar. Like seriously imagine having to be Jamie Lee Curtis and not only sit in that chair while your son flaunts hir disgusting body in front of you, the favorable lighting barely concealing his Adam's apple and leathery skin, and just sit there, day after day, hour after hour, while he calls himself a woman. Not only having to tolerate his monstrous fucking visage but his haughty attitude as everyone online tells him HE'S DEFINITELY A WOMAN and DAMN, VTUBERS LOOK LIKE THAT?? because they're not the ones who have to sit there and watch his mannish fucking gremlin face contort into types of grimaces you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been doing nothing but making critically acclaimed movies your ENTIRE CAREER. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can taste the sweat that's breaking out on his dimpled stomach as he sucks it in to writhe it suggestively at you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get paid to sit there and revel in his "statuesque (for that is what she calls himself)" beauty, the beauty he worked so hard for with surgery and makeup in the previous months paid with YOUR money. And then he calls for another stream, and you know you could kill every single person in this room before the studio security could put you down, but you sit there and endure, because you're fucking Jamie Lee Curtis. You're not going to lose your future political career over this. Just bear it. Hide your face and bear it.
