Bravely Bold Sir Allison.

Birds flutter freely through the air. Their playful chirp welcomes spring to the evergreen. Nothing but lush forests as far as the eye can see, so green that other colors appear foreign. They extend from horizon to horizon, where mountains in the far landscape blend with the ambient blue of the sky.
The forest is young. So young the trees all have thin trunks, pointed squarely up before vanishing behind their leafy crowns. They are reliable friends, really. Sprinkled all over the scenery, just tall enough to offer refuge from danger without menacing wanderers with their gargantuan stature.
The perfect site for an afternoon stroll. A second home, teeming with life and abundance behind every corner.

And yet, beneath this endearing facade, a corruption festers. Shadows fall between the trees, just like in any forest. But in this forest, an evil sickness has emerged from the shadows. Taken hold of the land, keeping its residents from truly living in harmony. Oh, whoever can rid this land of this detestable beast?

Enter our Faux Genius hero.
Rubbing the remnants of the stinging light from her eyes, she looks around in confusion.
Gone is the straitjacket which tucked her arms away from those **** to their devious intentions. Instead, she sports the frilly sleeveless tunic of a woodsman, its green blending seamlessly in with the surrounding foliage. It's kept fixed to her frame over white tights, sticking to her like a second skin, by a brown sash tied neatly around her waist.
Truly, the spitting image of sexy heroism.

"Oh, how marvelous." She whines, holding the hem of the tunic up to take a look. It's cut to about halfway to her thighs, leaving much room to admire those gorgeous legs, "This is such a dynamic and original concept. A hero slaying a monster? I bet that hasn't been done in the last three millenia. "
Suddenly the very ground shakes. Rattled leaves make their way from the treetops in a swirling dance.
Oh no.
Her acidic sarcasm and disdain for the simple enjoyments of childlike wonder has awakened the beast!

An angry snarl bellows throughout the valley. A black dragon rises over the forest like a living mountain, its red serpentine eyes locked squarely at the Faux Genius below. The creature is the size of a two-storey house, its wingspan so vast as to blot out the sun.
"Oh, come on!" The Faux Genius throws her arms out towards the creature, her tone exasperated, "You expect me to fight that thing? I mean, sure. I get it. You get off from seeing me tortured and humiliated. But what exactly will it prove if I get chomped down by that oversized monstrosity? That I'm just as doomed as any idiot who'd go mano-a-mano with a freaking building-sized dragon? Can't we get to the part where you're tired of this repetitive torment?"

Ah, it does seem the Faux Genius is underestimating the magnanimity of the Miracle Witch. Truly, I have no intention whatsoever of letting her fend for herself, unarmed and ****. As the goddess of this land, it is my duty and honor to bestow upon a worthy hero the weapon by which she may emerge triumphant against encroaching calamities.
Here you are, noble hero:
A boon from the fair and benevolent Beatrice.

A ladle lands at her feet.
"...Really? Really now?" She sighs, picking it up.
Now armed and ready to face any danger, the beast charges onward with wide open maws.
Being the Faux Genius she is, she can but stare at the oncoming apex predator like a bewildered deer.

CHOMP!
The dragon scoops her up in her jaws and bites down.
No, of course she is not dead. Yet.
She is far too stubborn for such a fate.

With feet firmly placed on the dragon's slithering tongue, her wiry arms strain to hold up the ceiling of its mouth from caving in, her righteous indignation alone keeping the blade-like fangs around her from closing in. The corrosive saliva drips down like rain, burning away her clothes piece by piece until only a scandalously torn top and loincloth remain haphazardly wrapped around her.
Her knees are shaking.
Her arms are wobbling.
She grunts. She squirms. Constantly but one slip away from turning into a snack of this ancient colossus. She shifts her entire body against the top of these monstrous maws.
Yet all for naught.
Clearly, such a valiant weapon is wasted on her.

"Guhh.... I'll show you who's wasted..." The Faux Genius hisses, stabbing the ladle into its gums in an effort to dig out one of its razor-sharp fangs from its roots.
All this accomplishes is to aggravate the dragon. A guttural growl booms out from its throat. The Faux Genius clings to the dangling tooth, barely keeping herself on her feet.
That is, until she notices the darkness enveloping around her. The dragon's jaws are moving.
"...Now, you're probably wondering if you should eat that hot chick," The Faux Genius squeals, "And the answer might surpri–"

SNAP!
And so the jaws clamp down on the Faux Genius, who perished before she could achieve anything of note. The story ends here in tragedy, a so-called hero who ever only relied on gadgets and toys, so she could pretend to accomplish significant feats. Yet when reality called, the most elementary task turned out to be beyond her.
How quaint.

The dragon lets out a pained shriek. Its wings flap frantically, storming left— right— everywhere, as if trying to escape some hostile enemy. But that enemy is inside.
It lets out a defeated groan before its serpentine neck drops to the ground with a resounding thud that shakes the Earth itself. Its wings fold over itself as a final blanket. There it remains, a limp, unmoving heap amongst the woods it once terrorized.

THUNK!
BANG!
CRASH!
The wall of scales collapses. From its cracks, a flood of gooey tissue that gushes out. In the midst of this bubbling pond of viscous fluid, a lump arises, dripping with disgusting innards.
And holding on to that dragon's tooth like a dagger.

"Eww... Ew! That's so gross! So fucking gross!" She spits, and keeps spitting, flicking slabs of tissue off her exposed skin, "I can't believe you made me do that!"
Oh, hush now. A toy is to be seen, not heard. Merely there to entertain its owner. It has no say in what fate befalls it.
This is only the beginning. There's more to look forward to.
This isn't going to end. Ever. Not until the she surrenders. Not until she admits she's the Faux Genius everyone knows she is.

"...To hell with that."
She takes out her little rectangle, clicking it to restore her outfit and clean her from the nasty filth she had to endure.
Wait, she could do that all this time?

"Of course I could! You think someone as scatterbrained as me wouldn't have any way to find her phone when it gets lost?" The Faux Genius smirks, "And you know what? I think we're about done here. This show is getting old."
She swipes the glass pane, finding none other than the effervescent face of yours truly staring back at her, "Why, hello there, darling. Did you really think it'd be that easy to get rid of me?"
Her face warps with irritation.
She keeps swapping, again and again. But I keep showing up, "What the...? Get out of my phone!"
She starts tapping the screen in an attempt to pin me with her finger. But I'm far too quick for her. I skid away before she can nudge me away.
"Dammit! Why did I take so long updating my subscription to my anti-virus software?" She groans, "Just stay away from my browsing history, you hear?"
"Oh, I'm not going anywhere." I look at her smugly, folding my arms, "I've made myself quite comfortable in this little glass world of yours. So go ahead. Keep your trinket. It's not like it will let you leave my realm regardess. Not while I am here to stop it."
"Oh yeah?" She chuckles, clearly not ready to give up on her delusion of control, "Well, if you like my phone so much, then how about a guided tour of all that it's got to offer, hm?"

An evil grin spreads across the faux face of the Faux Genius.
Ooh, I don't like it. Not one bit.