Okay, whoa. Just…whoa. I…I need to write everything down. I'll write in third person, so I can space myself from these events to better understand them. There's a theory that you cannot travel back in time before the first time machine was made, but I (or my time I suppose) have yet to see one built. And yet, here I am, fourteen hundred and fifty-eight years before I born, sitting in a suite in King Arthur's castle.

Yes, that King Arthur. The one who pulled that magical sword from a stone when no one else could. The one who married fair Guinevere. The one who lived in Camelot and Avalon. The one Monty Python, Mark Twain, and even Disney and DreamWorks have their own unique takes on. But that is beside the point. Let me start at the beginning.

My name is Cecelia Allison Pennybaker. My brother called me Sissy when he was little. We don't know if he was trying to say "sister" or "Cecelia", but the name stuck anyways. We live in a manor house that's been around since before the Civil War. It's always been the Pennybaker Manor. I'm rather proud of that.

We have cows, horses, pigs, various dogs and cats. We pay workers to tend the fields. I often go hunting with my dad, and I've caught, dressed, and cooked several kills myself. I prefer a bow to guns because bullets are hard to find sometimes.

But I digress. That day…that fateful day that everything changed…was the day of Junior Prom. Or night if you want to be technical. I'm happiest in blue jeans and a t-shirt, but that day I was wearing a light purple dress, with a flouncy skirt, a bodice designed to look like a corset, and little poofy sleeves that covered a little length just above my elbows. I wore a shimmery purple shawl over my shoulders with matching tights. I had my hair tied up with a shimmery purple ribbon, and I wore white shoes with low heels…

…which she promptly kicked off as she ran to subdue the mare. Starla, or Star, as Sissy had affectionately called her, had always been sweet and quiet, but now she was rearing and whinnying in fright for some unknown reason. Sissy pushed Scot, her boyfriend, out of the way. Since she had raised the chestnut mare from a foal, the horse would respond to her better.

The plan had been to ride to the prom in a carriage drawn by two of her family's horses. Star would need to calm down for that to happen now. Sissy reached for the bridle, but her fingers groped empty air as Star reared again. Sissy lunged again with a growl, and one of the mare's fore hooves clipped the girl's head.

Sissy had been kicked before, but it hadn't felt quite like this. The very bones of her skull seemed to dance like tectonic plates, and she blacked out. As she came to, she smelled crisp, clean air that had centuries before it had to learn of pollution. She looked around, trying to get her bearings, and noticed a knight upon a horse, both bedecked in armor. The horse looked like he might actually be a unicorn, if the iron spike protruding from his forehead was anything more than a modification of the armor.

Sissy's first thought as she studied his green and red silk trappings was that the man was role playing. Although the armor looked really realistic, so perhaps someone was shooting a movie.

"What is a fair a maiden such as this doing all alone?"

So he was definitely role playing, Sissy decided, and he did seem genuinely concerned. "I do not know, kind sir knight, but I wish to return to my family, though I am not certain where to start," she said, trying to play along. The knight seemed surprised at her accent for a moment.

"From whence you hail?"

"From the southern part of the county of Fulton."

"Fulton? I have heard of no such place."

"Georgia?"

"I have never heard of such a country. Is it far?"

Sissy looked up at the knight, wondering. "Okay, you're creepin' me out, dude. You can drop the act.," she said. "Act? You spout nonsense and then accuse me of tomfoolery? You are nothing but a gypsy who has stolen the garb of a noblewoman!" the knight cried.

"Call me a thief? Them's fightin' words!"

The knight turned his horse and ran off a ways to get ready to charge. Sissy stood her ground by a nearby tree. A knight was supposed to be chivalrous enough not to attack an unarmed woman, but not this man, tearing up the grass with his armored horse as he charged Sissy. The knight tucked his head down and held his lance at the ready, but still neither combatant would move.

Sissy leapt up at the last moment, the lance piercing her skirt and lodging into the tree behind. The skirt ripped, and she was left standing on the lance wearing her tights, the bodice of her dress, and her green sleep shorts. "Ye're gonna owe me for that, you LARPing lunatic!" she cried, as she balanced on the weapon.

Sissy glanced down at herself a moment. "Eh. Now I look like Barney, you numbskull!" she continued. She reached over, slid her fingers into the eyeholes in his helmet, and flipped it backwards over her head into the tree. The knight dropped the lance, but Sissy was ready and on her feet.

The knight jumped off his horse and slashed at her with his sword, but she quickly blocked him using her scarf. The knight was startled, and Sissy took advantage of the fact to take his sword. The knight turned and procured a second one from his steed, a two-handed, long sword. They clashed, and the swords sang as each combatants blocked and attacked.

Seeing as she wasn't going to tire quickly enough, the knight stepped forward onto her toes. She cried out, falling to the ground. Feeling her foot, she guessed she might have bruises resembling the edge of the metal boot. The sword's tip appeared, just inches from her nose.

"You are my property…"

"Hax!"

"The captive of my sword…"

"Haaaaxxxx!"

"Silence! You lost your chance."

Sissy, seething with anger, thought she better talk to whoever was in charge of the LARP charade. "Take me to your king," she demanded. "As you wish," the knight said. He remounted and turned toward her. "Come then, and don't forget your belongings," he said. Sissy glanced back, and, lo and behold, there was Scot's green backpack on the ground.

She slid the straps over her shoulders and scooped up her shawl. The knight pulled his lance free of the tree, and Sissy retrieved her skirt. He trotted away, and she followed, limping slightly from holding her toes off the ground. They walked along silently for some time, through unknown terrain. By and by, they followed a bend in the river, and there appeared a large castle overlooking a sleepy little village in the distance.

"I know that ain't Disney Castle," Sissy said, looking at the knight. "That's King Arthur's castle, in Camelot," the knight explained. "So…Disney's buildin' a new theme park in Georgia?" she asked, confused.

"I still don't know of this Disney and this Georgia you speak of."

They walked along silently for a moment before the knight turned to Sissy. "What is this 'theme park'? And why would this Disney want to build it?" he asked. "Man, you take your RP seriously," Sissy observed.