stunning, impossibly snobbish 35-year-old woman sits cross-legged atop a poker table, dressed not in evening wear, but in an exquisite white ballet tutu — stiff, pristine, and absurdly out of place. Her posture is regal, her chin lifted high as if the room isn't worthy of her gaze. Delicate satin pointe shoes dangle from her crossed legs, and her pale pink leotard hugs her toned frame like couture. Diamond studs glitter on her ears, and a pearl choker clasps her slender neck. She twirls a poker chip between two perfectly manicured fingers with aristocratic boredom. The players sit frozen, unsure if they’re witnessing elegance or mockery — but she doesn’t care. She's not here to play. She's here to be adored, (stripping:1.9)