A girl sat in a chair. This chair had deluxe cushioning, and it was upholstered with unicorn leather. The stitching itself was spun by pixies, and was infused with the salt of baby tears. The wooden frame alone was made of finished mahogany, even though nobody would ever see it. Even the stuffing used to fill it was made of chinchilla fur and adolescent narwhal blubber. If this chair wasn't great enough, I must also mention that it has a jetpack, made of classy carved titanium ore. Now, I bet that you understand that a chair like that wouldn't be sat in by any ordinary girl. Of this, you are completely correct.
Her toenails alone were filed with uncut diamonds, and painted with an expensive laquer that was infused with the blood of a mighty dragon. Her clothes were made of exotic furs from around the world, using the same baby tear stitching. She had jewelery made of the finest emeralds on Earth. Her skin was as soft as fancy butter with no artificial dyes or preservatives. Her hair was down to her shoulders, and as silky smooth as that Wen stuff on the infomercials. Her hair was as green as the light filtering through budding leaves in the late spring. Yes. Green. Her eyes were also the same vibrant color, although they looked weary, as if this girl had seen things that she would never speak of again. Her name? Well, nobody but her knows her true name, but people always seemed to call her Gumi Smith.