The clip from the S3 Blooper preview. Yeah. That one.

Z's alive and living at the mansion. SQ. The usual disclaimers. One shot, camron.

Regina Mills was about a lot of things. Mostly image. Whether in the Enchanted Forest, or the enchanted town of Storybrooke, Her Honor The Mayor was almost always the image of control. Steady as a rock.

At home, without reporters, cameras, and peasants...errr...subjects...errrr..townspeople present, Regina's a different animal.

The upstairs was filled with the sounds of WuTang Clan. Regina was strolling down the hall when suddenly she started weaving and bobbing to the rhythm of "Ron O'Neal," which she downloaded at midnight that morning after the Clan performed it on TV. The weaving, almost liquid moves of the mayor were the exact opposite of her stiff-as-a-tree image.

Then she turned around, went down the hallway, and just as she turned the corner, she did a very exaggerated giddy-up move, giving her rather ample behind a couple of slaps.

All to the unknown-to-her at that moment mutual jaw drops of her unseen audience behind her: one young boy of 14, and two women, one blonde, one redhead.

Young Henry stood next to his birthmom and his aunt, looked up at the two women, and whatever it was in their eyes as they were still staring, said "Ewww, gross..." and walked back to his bedroom. leaving the two women to contemplate what they just witnessed.

"You do know, Swan, if she wasn't my sister, I'd tap that," Zelena commented in total, admittedly, non-sisterly admiration.

"Forget it Greenie," replied the Sheriff. "You're talking to someone who taps that twice every night, once every morning, and three times on Sunday."

"I HEARD THAT!" voiced the 14-year old from his bedroom. "Young, impressionable minds, remember...?" That was followed by a shutting sound of his door, and muffled guffaws from the two women.

Then they looked at each other. Conspiratorial smiles crossed their faces.

"Miss Swan, do you think we should, say, give my lovely sister a...hard time?"

Looking at her watch, Emma told Zelena, "It's 8:15. Yeah, past time."

And this the Wicked Witch of the West and the Savior of Storybrooke, Maine proceed down the hall and the stairs for some playful harassment of the Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest for breakfast...

The Beginning...

And we shall end it there. I would assume your imaginations will come up with much better continuations than I can.

PS: Handcuffs, Cold, and a few others will continue after my writer's block has been cured.