"Ummmm," Jennifer's tone is a little too sweet, "duh. But you're the one complaining right now. Are you having a crisis, Heine?"

Her hands flit over the mask effortlessly as she decides, screw it, and pulls the mask on. they're a little funky and they smell strange, but she chalks it up to the soap because there was no way in hell she would be putting on a dirty, used mask.

"Can you, like, hurry up, or whatever? I'm getting impatient."