Clean up this mess

Michelle walks calmly downstairs, through the kitchen, and outside.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" She bellows in her loudest, most terrifying mom voice (she'd had lots of practice using it, thanks to her two bratty kids).

In an instant, the raucous, rowdy atmosphere evaporated, replaced by one of silent terror. Everyone stopped what they were doing, many dropping their phones or trying to desperately pocket them before they were noticed.

"You!" Michelle points to one of the caterers, a young blonde woman who nearly pissed her self in fright.

"M-me?" The woman squeaks, terrified to be a target of this very rich, very angry woman.

"We're not paying for this screw up of yours. Get this cleaned up, and have another one here by this evening or I'll make sure you and the rest of you fucking dumb shits are fired. Understand?" Michelle calmly, but forcefully says in a tone that says 'don't fuck with me.'

"B-but I..." the woman tries to stammer, only to be cut off.

"DO IT," Michelle orders in a voice so scary, the caterer instinctively nods and then gestures to her fellow workers to get started.

Without batting an eye, Michelle then turns to her own staff (well, technically Vanessa's staff, but no one's going to argue that point with her). "Get back to work, or you'll all be out on your asses and back in the unemployment line by dinner."

The employees scatter without a word, like a herd of frightened sheep, leaving just the poor, naked, messy, trembling Megan left to suffer the brunt of Michelle's wrath.

The mean mother calmly walks up to her and scowls. "And as for you..."