LADY MACBETH

This is the story of Lady Macbeth:

She has a knife collection in her bedside drawer and will eat you for breakfast if you mess with her or her Yeti Ugg boots. She owns a long, black cape-like Lady Macbeth winter coat that flaps behind her when she strides through the snow. She wears runners with her jeans and deems Armani Exchange the only European-esque enough brand in North America to don. According to her, every European nationality runs in her blood and at photoshoots (while everyone else is smiling joyfully), she will step forward, whip her hair back, and stare you down. Also, she makes fun of her younger cousins for only being born in Slovakia, and not Czechoslovakia, which was Communist. She loves horses. With a vengeance. As in her walls are covered with images of majestic, epic horses rearing in front of waterfalls and galloping in the ocean's spray, and she genuinely does not understand why you find them hilarious. However, if she had to pick between plunging her hand into a live horse's chest and eating out its heart, and killing her friend, she swears she would eat the heart. (Of course she would.) She would also pick her friend's life over killing off the entire horse race with her bare hands. At prom, she wore a long, glistening, mermaid-cut golden dress with colourful sequins that outshone everything. She is the fiercest white person in the world. The end.