They each stepped through the wormhole, and were dumped unceremoniously on the other side—Angie's wormholes were famous for that.  Singe was the first to fall through.
             "EHEHEHHHHH!" *THUD*
            Lange soon followed.  "WEEEEEEEE*FLOOMP*OW!"

She had landed on Singe, but the punishment didn't end there…Imp still had to fall through.
             "AHHHHHH*FLOOMP!*

Imp landed on top of both Singe and Lange, almost crushing them—but not quite.
            Singe and Lange groaned in pain.  "Imp!" Singe wheezed.  "Getoff!!" 
            Lange valiantly tried to get up.  "We should have traveled first class," she groaned between groans.
            Once they had finally gotten up, and have scraped Singe off the floor, the monkey girl looked around wearily.  "So what is this, imp? This is exactly the same as our cellar!"
            Imp became excited as she ran down the passageway.  "Come on guys!  You'll see—it's   great! This way!
            Singe and Lange followed Imp.  "Tra la la la la," Singe sang and she leaped around.
            Lange looked about, a bit disappointed.  "Imp, but...er...we know the way.  This is the opera house for crying out loud!"
            Imp looked that them pleadingly.  "Aww…come on guys!  Humor me!"

She continued to lead them up three floors to the opera house.  They had to be sneaky however, for it looked as if they had just finished a performance, and they were just cleaning up for the next day. 

Imp led them backstage, and to the dressing room, the accursed dressing room.

Singe did something very unmonkey-like, and hissed at the door, refusing to get any closer to it.  Lange crossed herself in horror. "Imp!" she cried.  "Why have you brought us to this place of great evil!"

Imp ignored them, and threw open the door.  "Behold, fellow Worthier Women!"
            Lange peered into the room.  "Ok..." she began, "I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to hang around the ditz's…heeey..." she paused, and took a double take.  "Why…this room is different."
            Imp opened the door wider, and they all walked in. Lange looked about in wonder.  "BUT THE ROOM ISN'T THAT EFFIMINATE!"
            Singe suddenly pointed at something, in complete confuzzledment.  "Look!" she cried, "a jockstrap!"
            Lange made a motion to faint, but for once, she didn't.  There was no Erik to not catch her.
            Imp bubbled over with joy.  "Don't you see!" she cried. "That's the great part about this place...NO DITZ!"
            Lange gasped in shock.  "No…ditz?!??!?!?"
            Singe gasped.  "Really?  But then who is there?"
             Suddenly, from the hallway, they could here the noise of footsteps and a man

Lange gave a small shriek of terror.  "AH!  We're frelled!"
            Imp tried not to panic.  "AH!  Quick!  Hide!"
            But that didn't stop Lange from panicking.  "EP!  Where to hide, where to hide!"

 Singe just replied by beating her over the head.  "Just HIDE!" she hissed as climbed onto a box on top of the small box, and grabbed a pair of small cymbals—the real name of which none of them had the time to remember. 
            Imp hide behind the coat hanger, and tried desperately to blend in.

Just as the door knob was beginning to turn, Lange grabbed an old musty cloak off the chair and threw it over her.  Then falling to her knees, she tried to blend in as a day bed.  She began to whisper desperately to herself.  "I'm a daybed, don't notice me, I'm just a daybed, I'm not anybody, really…I'm a daybed…"

"SSSHHHH!" Imp and Singe hissed, just as the door was thrown open…