001: [holo] Okay, so...the lamp post is where?
For a minute, Brooke actually thinks she’s slipped into Narnia.
A second ago, she’d been rummaging through her closet, throwing only the cutest dresses, shorts, blouses, skirts into a suitcase near her. She’d stepped a little further into the closet-because there was an adorable purple top that just looked fantastic with her skin tone-and…suddenly she was in a strange room. It was silvery, and cold, and clearly lacking in the keen Brooke Davis fashion sense that her closet normally screamed.
“Huh-wha?” Is coherency at its finest as Brooke finds herself spinning around slowly and surveying the surroundings. “Isn’t there supposed to be snow and a lamp post and…furry little talking things?” Okay, she isn’t actually sure that last thing would make her feel any better. In fact? She feels like she wants to be sick. Oh! She must have been drinking! Had she passed out? “Hey, P. Sawyer?” She calls out, and this time her voice is getting panicky and desperate. “Time to wake me up now. I swear, I’ll never do tequila again and…well okay, we know that’s a lie, but whatever.”
Nothing. No skanky blonde best friend. No Mr. Tumnus. Just one freaked out Brooke Davis and a…
A phone! Brooke almost squeals with delight and snatches it off of its little pedestal thing. “Hello?” She says into it, unsure because it really doesn’t look like any phone she’s ever seen. “Hey, people? Someone? I’m…Okay, clearly this is some weird reality show thing that’s living in my closet, right? Because…hello? Answer me!”
Brooke, dear, the Tablet can hear you just fine without all that racket.
A second ago, she’d been rummaging through her closet, throwing only the cutest dresses, shorts, blouses, skirts into a suitcase near her. She’d stepped a little further into the closet-because there was an adorable purple top that just looked fantastic with her skin tone-and…suddenly she was in a strange room. It was silvery, and cold, and clearly lacking in the keen Brooke Davis fashion sense that her closet normally screamed.
“Huh-wha?” Is coherency at its finest as Brooke finds herself spinning around slowly and surveying the surroundings. “Isn’t there supposed to be snow and a lamp post and…furry little talking things?” Okay, she isn’t actually sure that last thing would make her feel any better. In fact? She feels like she wants to be sick. Oh! She must have been drinking! Had she passed out? “Hey, P. Sawyer?” She calls out, and this time her voice is getting panicky and desperate. “Time to wake me up now. I swear, I’ll never do tequila again and…well okay, we know that’s a lie, but whatever.”
Nothing. No skanky blonde best friend. No Mr. Tumnus. Just one freaked out Brooke Davis and a…
A phone! Brooke almost squeals with delight and snatches it off of its little pedestal thing. “Hello?” She says into it, unsure because it really doesn’t look like any phone she’s ever seen. “Hey, people? Someone? I’m…Okay, clearly this is some weird reality show thing that’s living in my closet, right? Because…hello? Answer me!”
Brooke, dear, the Tablet can hear you just fine without all that racket.