The Hall H Line Outside the San Diego Convention Center, Saturday Morning

[thismaskiwear]

The big Bitterwoman presentation wasn't until 1 PM, but at 10:30 AM they were still halfway back a long, snaking line that hadn't moved since 9:45. Katchoo kept stepping away from the line to smoke, despite the dirty looks and pointed throat-clearing from other congoers nearby (flipping them off was a convenient enough response) mostly to give her

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[thatsamilkshake]

"Ohmigawd, can you actually believe they got the whole cast back together?" said ditz was now bouncing in Francine's direction.

No, not just the words. Every single, aerobicized, plasticized bit of her.

Francine probably wasn't helping by bouncing back, despite an initial moment of ... well. Cup-size comparison, okay? Or more accurately, cup size to waist size ratio.

"I know, right? The writer and the director swore they'd never be in the same room together again after the Christmas special..."

[thismaskiwear]

Katchoo slapped a hand against her forehead. "Francine, don't feed the balloon animals, geez . . ."

She was going to borrow someone's giant cardboard cosplay weapon and go to town on the silicone chatterbox any minute now. Any. Minute. Now.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Balloon animals? Where?"

....Sadly, that came from both the ponytailed blonde and Francine.

[thismaskiwear]

Katchoo turned on the blonde ditz and pointed a finger accusingly. "I'm talking about you, you walking sack of silicone and helium! God, do I need to hire a skywriter to spell it out?"

Don't answer that.