A Babe In A Booth

"What's that?" said Phoebe, pointing.

"I dunno," said her friend Tanya, a petite pigtailed blonde in a cheerleader's uniform. The two of them had come straight from sports practice, which was why the brunette Phoebe was still wearing her yoga pants. "It says it's a kissing booth."

"A kissing booth?"

"Yeah. You know, where you line up and pay to get a kiss from a pretty girl."

"I thought they got rid of those."

"Well, it's attached to that weird funhouse. You know, the one everyone stays away from, because it has those airjets that blow up your skirt? I mean, this is 2021. We don't go in for that kind of cheap, sexist humour any more."

"I agree," said Phoebe. "Hey, it looks like there's somebody in it."

Indeed, there was. Emily's head and upper body, clad in a yellow T-shirt, was sticking out from a pair of velvet curtains at the back of the kissing booth, elbows resting on the wooden counter, wide eyes staring at the crowds of Sideshow Alley. Phoebe thought she detected just a hint of panic in her expression. It looked almost like she was struggling to pull herself further out.

"Let's go and check it out," she said.