"You'll never get me to join your evil ranks, you fiend!"
The Mary Sue Queen smiled, the flawless whiteness of her perfectly straight teeth nearly blinding. "We'll see." She stood, the light from the torches reflecting alike off of the shiny, dark violet material of her long, bell-sleeved dress and the infinite depths of her beautiful china-blue eyes. Her aura was worse than any of her kind. I choked on the sickly-sweet, confident charm pervading from her.
The Queen flicked her glossy hair, the color of sunshine in the spring, over her shoulder with a scornful air. "If you were male, you would be under my complete control. Apparently you hide a woman's form under that – that – burlap you wear." She looked at my robe with disgust. The expression dissolved into a cunning smile, emphasizing the faultless rosiness of her cheeks. "But that will be solved shortly." She bent over me, her hands clasped benevolently, "And, my dear young lady," I gagged on the syrup-saturated air, "you will still 'join my ranks'. The charm of being perfect is too much for any sensible female to resist. Oh," she put her hand to her mouth with a concerned expression, "I'm so sorry! I forgot you aren't a sensible female. Don't worry, my darling, I'll have the girls get on that right away."
She clapped twice and two beautiful girls entered the room and curtseyed. It was highly amusing to see, especially when the golden swords at their hips clanged against the stone floor. The Queen smacked her forehead and marched over to them. "Have you learned nothing? Poise! Grace! Elegance! Not falling all over your sword when you do a curtsey!" She gestured dramatically at me, "How are we supposed to bring others into our fold if you cannot show them the light of perfection?!" She sighed sadly and shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you…" She dragged herself up the steps to her throne and slumped into it. The Queen waved her hand dismissively, "Begin the initiation process."