002: [ location: new found out ] & [ visual ]
The transmission opens to show a view of the inside of a rather old-fashioned naval style English pub. There's a cheerful looking girl with curly hair behind the bar and she's upside down. ...She hasn't really worked out the tablets yet.
"Hello, captive audience. Literally." She laughs, looking pleased at her own wit. "My name is Annie Sawyer, and this is my pub, the New Found Out. ...well. It's not actually mine, it's Hugh's, but finders-keepers and none of you know who Hugh is anyway so it's fine." Stick to the script, Annie. Incidentally, this has clearly been rehearsed many times and is all in the style of one of those terrible real estate reality shows.
"Nestled in an attractive location in Central Taxon, the New Found Out is conveniently close to nearby transport links. And by that I mean a tram stop. In addition to this we-- we? I? No, we. We's better. We boast a host of delicious food options. There's crisps and peanuts and... other flavours of crisps. The prawn cocktail is to die for." She holds a packet up illustratively like a magician's assistant, and rubs her stomach in a way indicative of 'yum'.
"So come on down, pull up a chair- or stool, we have both - and get yourself a nice foamy glass of cold beer from Mama Annie." Pause.
"...I'm not actually anyone's mum. Just so you know. It's just a thing I'm trying."
This is what happens when a nervous ghost who's been by herself for a few days decides to 'branch out and meet people'.
"Hello, captive audience. Literally." She laughs, looking pleased at her own wit. "My name is Annie Sawyer, and this is my pub, the New Found Out. ...well. It's not actually mine, it's Hugh's, but finders-keepers and none of you know who Hugh is anyway so it's fine." Stick to the script, Annie. Incidentally, this has clearly been rehearsed many times and is all in the style of one of those terrible real estate reality shows.
"Nestled in an attractive location in Central Taxon, the New Found Out is conveniently close to nearby transport links. And by that I mean a tram stop. In addition to this we-- we? I? No, we. We's better. We boast a host of delicious food options. There's crisps and peanuts and... other flavours of crisps. The prawn cocktail is to die for." She holds a packet up illustratively like a magician's assistant, and rubs her stomach in a way indicative of 'yum'.
"So come on down, pull up a chair- or stool, we have both - and get yourself a nice foamy glass of cold beer from Mama Annie." Pause.
"...I'm not actually anyone's mum. Just so you know. It's just a thing I'm trying."
This is what happens when a nervous ghost who's been by herself for a few days decides to 'branch out and meet people'.