Snowmanster sat on her couch, soaking it all in. Home again… so good. But where was everyone? Spongebub? Snowbob?
After a while the truth began to settle in. She was late. She had missed something. But what? Snowmanster went to the window; stared out at the familiar Rubi Woods. The purple hummingbird below her outside twittered loudly.
“Meeting Place,” she mutters, staring at the appropriate flat spot of the forest. “That’s where I’ll find out.”
She was back at Cry I. but underwater now. Down to a putter: end of hole.
This was the night she met Dr. Low with red and blue eyes. Splitsville.
But first… some lemonade at the conveniently placed Joker’s Wild bar to her left. Old Grey awaits through the Red Door.
“Guess it’s time for that heart to heart, Old Mabel,” she starts. “Lemonade’s on me tonight. Karl!” she then yells, banging her cane on the bar counter. She waits just a second and bangs again. “Rhoda! Whoever!”
“Oh it’s you. ‘Bout time. Well… a 24 oz can of Pabst Blue Ribbon for me and the little lady will have a lemonade. Start a tab.”
“I’m 113 years old, *Old* Grey,” the Martian proclaims defiantly. She then glared at Snowbob behind the counter. The last time she saw the hybrid being was in the mystery cabinet or closet or whatever. She didn’t really like what was happening there, but perhaps it was all a dream.
“Yellow is missing,” he said, staring back. “Replaced by green!”
“He’s right this time, you know,” agreed Old Grey. The Martian now noticed the lemonade already in front of him.
Snowmanster exits the closet.