Storybrooke, 2001.

Any Given Sundae ice cream shop.

Ingrid was in the back, unboxing the new flavors of ice cream.

I wonder if Emma's here yet, she thought, No, wait, how silly of me. She's not due to arrive for another ten years. In event, perhaps this scroll the apprentice gave me can allow me to break the barrier surrounding Storybrooke.

Meanwhile, back on the open road, Fish Mooney and her bodyguard Butch were interrogating Penguin aka Oswald Cobblepot.

"Who sent you?!" Fish snapped, "Maroni? Falcone?"

"No one sent me, Ms. Mooney, I came on my own." Oswald quivered.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," Fish said. "How did you get past Falcone's men, then?"

"I'm very resourceful." Oswald said, "I only followed you so that I might beg your forgiveness in hopes that you would let work for you again."

"Why should I believe a word you say?" Fish sneered.

"Because if we find the type of thing that Falcone was talking about, we can use it to destroy him, and you can take control of Gotham. I will be your loyal slave, and serve you forever. Please, Ms. Mooney, give me another chance to prove myself."

Suddenly, they heard a noise and saw a small rolled up piece of paper on the ground.

"Hey, what's this?" Butch asked.

"It looks like a small scroll." Penguin commented.

"Let's see what it says, Butch." Fish said, as Butch unrolled it.

"I can't make out any of this, boss," Butch said, "it looks like another language."

"Wait, look." Fish said. They all gazed before them as a town appeared before their very eyes. Ingrid was standing before them.

"Welcome to Storybrooke," she said, "My name is Ingrid, but here I go by the alias of Sarah Fisher. Are you people lost?"

"No," Fish said, "but how is the possible?"

"Magic," Ingrid said, "this town has been overtaken by a powerful curse. In approximately ten years from now, a girl named Emma will arrive here, who is destined to break this curse."

"Interesting," Fish said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your names." Ingrid said.

"Our names are unimportant for now, Ms. Fisher." Fish said, "Do you happen to know of a place we can stay, preferably somewhere off the radar?"

"I think I know just the place," Ingrid said.

Later, Ingrid took them to her unregistered apartment.

"This is a little place I found, off the books. The mayor doesn't even know about it," Ingrid said, "You're welcome to stay for as long as you like."

"Intriguing," Fish said, "There's just one problem. I'm not staying anywhere with him." Her gaze shifted to a nervous Oswald Cobblepot.

"Please, Ms. Mooney, I thought we were partners," Oswald protested.

"Not yet," Fish said, "I don't trust you, yet. Now, Ms. Fisher, you said something about a mayor. Can you get me in touch with them?"

"Well, Mayor Mills is a very busy woman, and I'm just the lowly ice cream lady, but I'm sure I could work something out. There's just one caveat. Mayor Mills can't know of my presence. You can't let her know of my involvement."

"You have my word," Fish said, "y'know it's funny your alias is 'Fisher', because my name is Fish Mooney. This is my associate, Butch Gilzean. And this sniveling little twit is Penguin."

"Well, actually Oswald Cobblepot." Oswald piped up.

"Shut up!" Fish commanded.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mooney." Ingrid said. "I'm happy to offer my services."

"Unless you have some sort of ice cream flavor to give people permanent brain frost, I'm sorry honey, but I don't see that happening." Fish said, "No offense, of course."

"None taken," Ingrid said.

"We were sent here by Don Carmine Falcone of Gotham City. He's in search of some type of object that can be used to help us gain control." Fish said.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of a man by that name, but I think I may have just the thing you're looking for." Ingrid said.

"I'm listening," Fish said, "Butch, be a dear and take Penguin out of the room for a moment please, would you?"

"My pleasure, boss." Butch said, as he forcefully escorted Penguin out.

"Sorry," Fish said, "but some people aren't supposed to hear everything. Now, as you were saying."

"There's a little shop down the street, owned by a man named Mr. Gold. Somewhere in his shop, there should probably be a small golden urn. Inside that urn is a powerful force that can entrap anyone and put an entire city under the mercy of whoever possesses it." Ingrid said.

"How nice," Fish said, "I'll go speak with this…Mr. Gold, and then I believe I have an appointment with the mayor."