<div class="floatleft"><div align="center">(https://i.pinimg.com/474x/90/45/fa/9045fa9a9a88ebbc589f02ffba64f174.jpg)<br/></div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Berlin Sans FB;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"> Taffy Silk<br/>‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾  </span></span></div></div><br/>I manage to recover from my surprise at Peter being here, and note the remains of what appears to be strudel.<br/><br/>I blush a little at his comments. "This? Oh, I've just borrowed this. It's Dianne's, but I'm absolutely certain it was marked to be given to charity."<br/><br/>I glance at what I assume is the cook. "Assuming this is a safe space, you may not want to be noticed, Peter. There's Dianne and Amanda, a sexcrazed minion. Jaclyn seems to have been hypnotised again, and well, isn't herself. Somehow I need to extract her from here, and also extract me from here. The outfit helps for that, um, I may have slapped Jaclyn quite hard, but I was upset."<br/><br/>I think that's it. "How you choose to act is up to you, please don't go far though, as we have no lift should we need it. Oh, and I still need to locate my phone, and Jaclyn's from wherever our coats got taken." I flick a glance at the cook, who may help Peter with that, I hope. I sigh. "I think I need to try something, before something worse happens. WIsh me luck!"<br/><br/>Waving, I head back towards the centre of attention. Time to tough it out, and project strength. I throw the door open, and take a couple of steps inside.<br/><br/>Looking at the three of them with surprise initially, I point at Amanda: "Cease that, girl, or it'll be worse than you. And you... I point at Miss Jaclyn, or what's left of her, and then point at my feet: "...heel!"<br/><br/>Let's see how she responds. I'm hoping Dianne will be at least interested, or this could go badly.