A cackling laugh and horrendous screech with a vitriolic scowl that could freeze a river to a standstill. Knives sharpened to stab you in the back, with her husband who will give your ***** a whack. A child that was a one off, at men she does often scoff. No feeling of love except for herself, compassion is something to be kept on a shelf. Oh how rich I have become is her mantra, if you want so help then let me get some money to my foundation, and then we can have foreign relations. Shaking and shivering coughing for an hour, but don't mention it or things will get sour. What a wondrous disaster  to say the least, not once but twice did she suffer defeat. First to the smooth speeches of an upstart rogue, when the highest office was hers to take. Then a second humiliation at the hands of another ***** grabbing male. Oh could it be her husband 2.0, crying all night this can't be so. The glass celling did not break, it can' be right this has to be a mistake. At the end of the day into the forest it did retreat, perhaps this is the last we will hear of the Hilda beast?