She had no idea how long she fell, or where. She swore she passed by many of the props in Studio City on her way, including microphones and the empty food cart. They might have been there. It was hard to tell when she fell so fast!
“Oof!” She landed hard on a pile of soft leaves. It took a few minutes for her to regain her breath and figure out where she was. “Boys? David? Adam? Where are you? Bill? Mr. Rabbit? Damn it,” she grumbled at the hole in her elbow, “and I like this blouse, too.” Patting her hair revealed a number of leaves and twigs trapped in the ebony curls, which she hastily dislodged.
The alcove opened into a long hallway, like the ones between studios at Television City. It had the same too-bright track lighting and yellowing white paint from when it was built. All she could see were doors, doors, and more doors along the worn gray industrial carpeting. Most of the doors were normal human size, except the tiny metal gate at the end. She swore she saw a rabbit slide through there, but it could have been her imagination.
“This seems strangely familiar.” She raised an eyebrow as a key and a bottle of brown liquid in a crystal jar appeared on the table in a small flash of light. “Ok, now I know it's familiar. The only way I can follow that rabbit and find my boys is to drink this and get small, right?” Her finger tapped on a label attached to the bottle with a piece of string. “It even says 'drink me.'” Drinking anything wasn't exactly a problem for her. “Ok, down the hatch!”
Her first chug revealed a flavor that...wasn't bad. Pretty close to brandy, but with an odd fruity note. Bourbon? Not full enough. Gin? Maybe with a little Hawaiian Punch?
“Oohhhh...” She nearly swooned into the tiny glass table. “I don't feel so good. I knew that was one drink too many...” Her stomach churned as her limbs seemed to have a life of their own. Her arms and legs lengthened first, then her fingers and toes. Her knees would have dwarfed every skyscraper in LA, and her nose was bigger than even Jack's.
“Good gravy Marie!” she yelped as her head hit the ceiling. “Ow! Damn it, I knew that was a bad idea!” She slammed her fist into the tiles, bringing down several bits of asbestos on her head. “Ouch! Now how the hell am I going to get out of here? Damn it! Damn it to all hell!”
She couldn't help herself. Big tears gushed out in great waterfalls before she could stop them. “I'll never find the boys! I'm stuck down here! How the hell will I find clothes and shoes that fit? And what will Jack think when we're all gone? Serves him right for being late! Big idiot probably got stuck in traffic on the Ventura Freeway...”
She cried so much and for so long, a massive pool of salty liquid formed around her gigantic feet. “Oh great,” she wailed, “I'm the only person in the entire world who could create the Pacific Ocean by bawling!” Her hand wiped across her eyes and nose. “Wish I brought a handkerchief. Hope I didn't ruin my mascara. I'd never hear the end of it from Charles if I showed up looking like a drenched rat in a rainstorm.”
At that moment, one of the doors slammed. The White Rabbit dashed along, still muttering under his breath. “I'm late! I'm so terribly late! I don't want to lose my head! It would make it awfully hard to eat carrots. The Queen loves animals – at least I'm not a human, or a card! It would be terrible. But that Red King...if I'm late with his invitation...oh! I could be sent to feed the Jabberwock, or worse, lose my muchness!”
“Excuse me?” Even Brett was surprised at how much her voice boomed in that small room. “Mr. Rabbit...Bill...could you, er, lend me a paw here? I'm really having trouble getting down...”
Bill the White Rabbit stopped on a dime, which couldn't have been easy with his big bunny feet. He turned slowly around, took one look at the gigantic, sobbing woman behind him, and let out the loudest scream she ever heard before taking off down the part of the hall that wasn't flooded.
“Oh, damn.” She made a face. “I didn't mean to scare him! Even as a rabbit, Bill's a nervous Nellie. Hey,” she added, noticing two white objects lying on the drier part of the floor, “what's this?”
Her fingers rubbed around tiny white silk gloves with black stitching over the knuckles. “They look more like what Mickey Mouse or Bugs Bunny wear.” Next to them was a rather attractive little fan, printed with tiny bunnies and flowers. “Well,” she panted as she snapped the fan open, “it is kind of warm in here, though that might be my hot flashes. I doubt he'd mind if I used this for a minute...”
She fluttered the fan around her face. It didn't really make her cooler...but she did feel herself shrinking the more she used it. “Good gravy Marie!” The fan and gloves dropped into the salty waters as her arms and legs squashed together. “I think I almost fanned myself out of existence!” She dropped into the water with a splash the second she regained control of her limbs.
At least the Pool of Tears was warm and pretty easy to navigate. “Wish I hadn't cried so much,” Brett muttered. “Jack's always going on about me being a drama queen, but this is ridiculous!” Thank goodness she learned to swim at that little pond on her family's farm in Maine. She easily stroked her way over to a large open heating vent on the end of the room and paddled in.
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