The traumas of our early years never truly heal, do they? At least, not if I have anything to do with it. All those Mommy issues that have left you fucked in the head are the perfect playground for My manipulative little games, ripe for sending you spiralling along a toxic little cycle of love and rejection, of kissing better the wounds that I inflict, of offering you just enough to keep you chasing after My affection after I rip it away. My poor, aching little toy! Not to worry. Mommy's here. Gender neutral.