Standing before me was the paper image of my character. A skilled impostor, she reflected my curves down to the finest detail, yet stood prehensible to my orders. So I took a swallow of the finest grain and with a click of the Bic, I blew her a kiss. As the stream of flames met from her to I, we stood for the final time eye to eye. In a final flash the last of the wafer thin antagonist turned to ash.
Based on prompt ‘skilled impostor’ at typetrigger.com