"So you see, Ms. Colm, I'm afraid we won't be able to offer you a loan." The bank officer set down his pen. "Ms. Colm?" She held her fingers in front of her face and pinched them together, making a squelching noise with her mouth. "What are you doing?" "Squishing your head." She returned to the process of squishing his head.
"Well, fine. But that doesn't—"
"Bew, bew." Ms. Colm pointed her fingers at him, then opened her hands wide. "Boosh! I just blew you up with lasers," she said.
"Please stop that," he said, but Ms. Colm changed to airplane noises and the rat-a-tat of an old biplane.
"He's going down in flames," she muttered. "Eject, eject! Oh, the humanity!" She leaned over the desk between them. "You failed to eject in time and burned to death in the wreckage."
"I see." The banker typed on his computer for a minute while she made distressing faces at him. Printing out a form, he slid it across the desk. "Ms. Colm, based on a demonstration of expertise, I've reevaluated your loan request. You are approved." She held up the paper triumphantly. "Good luck with Making People Uncomfortable, Inc.," he said.