The Last Resort Social Network

[The lens of the communicator is covered, but a scratchy female voice can be heard.]

Just hold it and point it over here. This button starts it. Wait, did you already- ?

[The post stops.

When it starts again, it is pointed at a skinny, rotting woman in a long wool gown - Emilia. She is holding a bundle of blue fabric.]

Blackway Clothing, [she begins, smiling primly,] is adequate for your needs if you enjoy poorly-sized, off-the-rack, tacky dish rags to wear on your body. The clothes make the man. Of course, far be it from me to dictate how terrible you want to look. I'm sure it's just fine.

[She unfurls the bundle. It is a t-shirt with an incomprehensible airbrushed slogan, still with the original tags on it.]

But in the event, of, say, an attack by Creepers, the rest of us will all be watching as your pitiful fashion choices do this.

[She holds the shirt at arm's length and crooks a clawlike finger on her opposite hand. A spark of blue flame alights on the tip, and she touches it to the shirt which immediately goes up in flames. As she speaks, it burns almost all the way up to her hand.]

"Stitches" provides custom, quality clothing for any occasion, tailored to fit and priced very reasonably. It is also fireproof.

I think we're finished here.