"Mmm, gimme," she says, and takes the knife and gets out of bed and cuts her throat. Carpets are easier to clean than mattresses, and blood lingers after a—

Very real-looking flames spring up, consuming her body while leaving everything else untouched. The knife drops to the floor. She coaelsces again in exactly the same spot, exactly the same pose, but intact and spotless.

"Torch," she says, with a ta-daa sort of gesture.