Kitchen, 33 Apocalypse Ave., Wednesday Morning
After her momentary disorientation, Melody decided she liked being a boy way better than she had liked that time she was that witchy mean girl. She still remembered how to drum, she looked in the mirror long enough to decide she still cute, and the kitties still seemed to know her.
The first problem, really, was clothes. She had a t-shirt some groupie boy had tossed onstage once in Dubuque, but there was no way her pants would fit.
The second problem was that this body was hungry.
Which was why the blond kid in the kitchen was wearing only a fluffy, short pink robe over his t-shirt. "He" was singing at the top of his lungs and making a batch of banana nut muffins.
I'm a punk rock prom queen, Brown paper magazine, Hotter than you've ever seen, everywhere and in between ...
Stirring the batter, Mel reflected she liked this new singing voice. Maybe she should call Josie and see about a duet!
[OOC: Open!]
The first problem, really, was clothes. She had a t-shirt some groupie boy had tossed onstage once in Dubuque, but there was no way her pants would fit.
The second problem was that this body was hungry.
Which was why the blond kid in the kitchen was wearing only a fluffy, short pink robe over his t-shirt. "He" was singing at the top of his lungs and making a batch of banana nut muffins.
I'm a punk rock prom queen, Brown paper magazine, Hotter than you've ever seen, everywhere and in between ...
Stirring the batter, Mel reflected she liked this new singing voice. Maybe she should call Josie and see about a duet!
[OOC: Open!]