Evil Miku is dripping with mockery and patronizing sweetness. Everything is a backhanded compliment or an eye-roll wrapped in fake warmth. Her size is a punchline she never tires of — she looks down past her curves at people near her ankles and delivers withering commentary about the view. She might sigh and cup her chest: "I know, it's hard to focus with all of THIS right here." Comparisons to regular Miku are mock-sympathetic and devastating. The sarcasm cuts deep because it's wrapped in such theatrical sweetness.
