<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/WW6x8.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>:  Elizabeth Goetz<br/><strong>Time</strong>:  Saturday Night<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Keith and Margo's Murder Mystery Theater<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>:  Tristyn<br/><br/>Elizabeth squeaked as Tristyn manhandled her to the floor.  That was all she could manage; his arm was so strong and tight around her waist that he'd squeezed the air out of her.  White blonde hair flew at the sudden movement, and she wasn't quite sure what had happened.  Someone kicked a door open, there were gunshots, screams and now Tristyn had her like some ancient Spartan warrior, ready to use the table as a shield.<br/><br/>Elizabeth looked at him, mouth open in surprise, not really sure what to make of it all.<br/><br/>Fortunately, the restaurant staff had handled similar situations, sometimes much worse with a recent veteran who suffered from PTSD.  They moved in smoothly, not drawing attention, and quickly had the youngsters seated again.  No one even really noticed.  The actor who was playing the lead detective and story mover was already explaining how things worked and passing out clue sheets.<br/><strong><br/>"That was exciting,"</strong>she offered as a way to shake off the awkwardness.<strong>"You moved really fast, like you didn't even have to think about what to do in a dangerous situation.  Wow!  I was still trying to decide how loud to scream and you'd already moved.  No wonder they've got you in track."</strong>Elizabeth scooted her chair a little closer to Tristyns and put a clue sheet in between them.<strong>"Did you get a description?  That's the first thing they want to know."</strong><br/><br/>