“I mean it,” she insisted from behind her mahogany desk. “I’ll break the camera. I always do.”
“Look, your company wants publicity photographs of all new Board members. Smile, please!”
Something tinkled quietly. Dismayed, the photographer realised his upmarket Canon’s lens had shattered. He tried a Nikon, then his beloved Leica. Same thing, each destroyed.
“Told you,” said the woman. “I’m ugly.”
The photographer looked; she might be right, though it would be wrong to say so. But in the end the company settled for an artist’s line sketch.