<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">REDACTED, or, twice upon a time, in another tale far far away....</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="floatright">(https://orig00.deviantart.net/74aa/f/2015/359/1/0/amanda_seyfried_light_study_027__by_razaras-d9lexlf.jpg)<br/></div><strong>Name:</strong> Gilda Lockhart / Goldilocks<br/><strong>Location:</strong> nope, definitely not Kansas, maybe Wonderland?<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong> Black cardigan, jeans, ugg-style boots, school bag with no phone in it :,-(<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Lisa, Gregg, Rebecca, Hannah, whomever arrived with her<br/><strong>Extra Information:</strong> <br/><hr/><br/>“Kinky fanfic huh,” Lisa’s accidental confession caught Gilda’s ear, “Cool. Can you send me the links to your fav-…”<br/><br/>She reflexively reached for her pocket - and remembered she had no phone.<br/><br/><em>AAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!</em><br/><br/>An internal primal scream always helped. An external one would’ve been even better, but she didn’t want to look like a freak to the others (any more than she already might) or make too much noise in case someone not-so-nice was nearby. <br/><br/>“No idea but what the prof said,” Gilda told Becca, “But I’ll just work off the assumption that Miss White-as-Snow looks about like the old cartoons, and hopefully not like Miss Wooden Sparkling Zombie Face in that terrible recent action movie version…” <br/><br/>She gave Becca a comforting squeeze of her hand, then told Gregg, “So if the prof or somebody did do something freaky with our phones or our bodies, you can like, beat them up right? Maybe when we get back to school you can get the rest of the team to like, all dogpile and kick the shit out of WHOEVER TOOK MY GODDAMN PHONE-”<br/><br/>Gilda bit her lip. Frozen. Eyes wide. Looking around at the rest of the plus size Scooby Doo gang. “Ahem. Sorry everyone. That was not very ladylike of me, now was it…”<br/><br/>She coughed, and told Gregg in a much sweeter, more feminine voice, “...and kick the ever living shit out of whomever took my phone.” <br/><br/>If it were possible to make the phrase ‘kick the ever living shit out of’ sound ladylike, Gilda had just accomplished it.<br/><br/>“Well now. As my only working logical hypothesis is that we all got plastered and robbed and maybe - other things - I would rather <em>not</em> stay wherever I was left. I hope you will join me,” she smiled sweetly, particularly at Gregg, Becca, and Hannah, squeezing the girls’ hands.<br/><br/>“...I for one am going to go find help, even if it’s something as backward and barbaric and low-tech as a <em>payphone!</em> Yeah, I think it’s time to <em>♫ reach out and touch someone ♫</em>.” Gilda let her new friends’ hands go, cracked her knuckles and balled up her not-very-intimidating fists. <br/><br/>Then she put her hands on her hips, and tried to look dignified as she stomped off, ass swinging and uggs clomping - the clomp starting to sound oddly like the wood of clogs.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>Once outside the castle, in the forest, she heard quite a few chirping birds, one landed on her shoulder. Gilda could have sworn she must be going crazy, because she convinced herself she could hear it singing soprano in understandable words.<br/><br/><em>”♫ Oh Gilda, there there,<br/>It’s no more than you can bear,<br/>Look around and you’ll see, <br/>You’re about to be,<br/>Paaaaaart of this wooooooorld…. ♫”</em><br/><br/>Gilda swatted the bird off her shoulder. “Fuck off.”<br/><br/>Then she heard….okay, more singing, deeper voiced. This time it was real...right? She wasn’t going insane? Well maybe she was, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t also be real singing right? Gilda pushed her way through a thicket of ferns, toward the sound...<br/><br/><em>”♫ Far o’er mountains cold,<br/>We dwarves dug deep,<br/>In search of gems and cold,<br/>Where foul things creep,<br/>And earth is old,<br/>Our treasures sleep,<br/>Dig deep and bold,<br/>Our wealth to reap.♫”</em><br/><br/>A hairy ass crack presented itself to Gilda’s view as she broke through the ferns. <br/><br/> A short, grubby fellow was bending over like a plumber. He rummaged through some sort of small, primitive little wooden shack. It seemed to be a toolshed of some sort. Or maybe an unusually heavily equipped outhouse? Gilda saw pickaxes, hammers, and other prospecting equipment clanging around, falling out of the toolshed, and being thrown back in by the angry little man.<br/><br/>If it was an outhouse, Gilda did NOT want to know what all those tools were for. <br/><br/>“Pardon me sir!” Gilda perked up immediately. Finally! This hillbilly might at least have a phone!<br/><br/>The man turned around. He was bearded. His face was even redder than his cap. “Whaddaya want!?”<br/><br/>“Well mister, my name is Gilda-”<br/><br/>“I’m Grumpy!”<br/><br/>“Yes sir, I can see that-”<br/><br/>“What!? I don’t know ye!?”<br/><br/>“Of course not, I don’t know you either sir, I just meant-”<br/><br/>“Then how’d’ye know I’m Grumpy!?”<br/><br/>“Well you just seemed Grumpy”<br/><br/>“-but ye said you didn’t know me, ye lyin’ whore of a lass!”<br/><br/>Gilda sighed. “Nevermind. Pardon me, mister, do you have a phone?”<br/><br/>“A what?!”<br/><br/>“A phone. Ring ring. Reach out and touch someone? Telemarketers? Drunk dialing? Skinny old guy on a stage in a black turtleneck selling you a little glass rectangle for a thousand dollars? Any of that ring a bell?”<br/><br/>“The nearest insane asylum is, eh…” the short bearded man could not decide which way to point and seemed very confused. “These nonsense babblin’s o’ yers aren’t some black magic, I hope? Maybe ye should just see Dockson. He’s the brains, he’d know what to do with ye.” Under his breath, the man muttered, “...ye crazy straw-haired witch-whore.”<br/><br/>He pointed in another direction. Gilda finally noticed a cottage just visible through some trees nearby. <br/><br/>It looked so inviting...so cozy...so…so….something surged up deep within Gilda. No, not Hannah’s brownies. They were still yummy in her tummy. Gilda was struck with a sudden urge to get into that cottage. <br/></div></div>