12 -
"Pssst."
"What?" dragon whispered back.
"Where are we supposed to be?"
"Uhm... lemme look." rustling of paper, flattening, smoothing "Ford's."
The SQ Addict shook her head. "I don't think so. He's not Roumanian, is he?"
"British." dragon looked into the room and raised her eyebrows. "Uhm ... yeah." She blinked. It was a nice room if you liked coffins and torture instruments. "Did we stray into The Wax Museum?"
Her daughter dashed around the building. No sign. "Apparently not. No. No sign. No figures. Just this." She gestured to the room.
dragon got a devilish look on her face. "We came to decorate and decorate we shall!" She extracted cans of spray paint from her ubiquitous back pack. "Primary yellow, primrose, pink, orange, glow in the dark ... Shall we?"
An hour later, Renfield entered the room and screamed.