Under a waning moon, a glowing witch—poreless, bathed in serums—sets a single silver coin beneath a glittering skull candelabra. “She’s a movie actress,” she chants, eyes closed, her intention set. “She’s a movie actress; she’s a movie actress; she’s a movie actress.”

Ariana Grande, mumbly little peanut on the left, god knows what on the right, has had her tiny share of bad press lately. She's already been accused of wielding a diva-like attitude towards photographers and interviewers, and she's just been accused of wanting all of her fans to fucking die. Classic diva.