Her name is Gobs.
Actually, that's just what she looks like. Every villain has some kind of distinct physical trademark. Maleficent had her horns, Cruella had black and white hair, and the Wicked Witch had green skin. Gobs has mascara. Lots and lots of mascara. To the point that I sincerely don't understand how she gets that much onto her lashes, let alone manages to keep her eyes open throughout the day. I think she mixes cornstarch into it.
Picture this: I live in my own room until hubbykins gets here in a matter of hours. However, for the last few weeks I have had NO one to talk to in the morning. Hence, the first thing I do is run to the other dorm where my two flute buddies reside, exhaust myself running up flights of stairs, and greet my friends with big smiles and laughs and girl jabbering, right?
Almost. Within my first few days of residence, Horsey engaged me for the first round of combat. (Horsey is Gob's sidekick, so named for the look of her face, or in truth, her teeth.) I had not quite made it up that first flight of stairs before I heard an annoying angry women yelling at me in French. It took me a minute to figure out all this hysteria was directed at me. After several rude, exaggerated gestures, I figured out that she wanted me to call the room before I went up. This woman is the lesser of the two evils. We continue to battle. Gobs won't even let me call and go up the stairs.
Now, every time I walk in and see Gobs, I hear the old western standoff whistle in the background and tumbleweeds blow by behind me. Unfortunately, not being able to speak comprehendible French leaves me totally unable to negotiate any kind of peace. Or even tell her off properly.
Nicole, in all her immense empathy, kindly drew a series of cartoons depicting my predicament as related to famous villains:
