Come a little closer into Poison Ivy’s lair. Do you love the sweetly sadistic sounds of her pretty thorns tapping, waiting for you? Would you like to be her little thorn cushion? After all, what better use for a silly little meatbag like you than to take swipe after swipe with her thorny nails. Cutting into your vulnerable body slowly, viciously, and it’s all up to whatever strikes Ivy’s mood. Whatever the method - those thorns will be your sweet sweet demise. Your back, your legs, your chest - those cuts will begin to add up, you see, and with Ivy’s vines wrapped around you there will be no escape. As they slither towards you, you know your fate is sealed. Hands bound above your head, your feet wound together by vines - all so that Ivy can collect your precious life nectar bit by bit, until there’s nothing left. And you’ll thank Poison Ivy for the painful pleasure of being at her mercy, and the honor of watering the very vines that will assist in ending you.