Buffy stood before the lump of clay and looked from it to her model. The dynamics of sculpturing had thus far evaded her attempts and she decided she needed the variant of a live model to practice upon.
Buffy had spent the last hour working the clay. “You need to stand still now. I’m getting to the tricky part.”
“All my parts are tricky. Aren’t you finished yet? This is unbelievably dull.”
“I would be… Um, that’s not where the fig leaf goes.”
“Must be allergic, Slayer. It seems to be causing me to swell. See?”
“Oh my God, Spike!”