An angry mob of villagers out to get what's coming to them

Greta's face goes pale as the angry mob of torch-wielding peasants draws ever closer.

She had caught wind of some kind of unrest in the city as she was traveling earlier today, but the maid had not expected them to react this fast.

"We need to go..." Greta whispers as she blindly grasps for Belinda's hand.

"Oooh! I can't see anything!" The naked, oblivious monarch whined. She was still feebly looking for a pair of long-gone glasses and had not heard Greta's dire warnings.

The mob was growing closer now, the angry shouting and chanting still too far away to understand, but close enough for Greta to know she and her half-sister definitely didn't want to be caught by them.

"Run," the terrified servant says in a dull deadpan.

"What?" Belinda asks, spinning around and making her jigglicious body shake.

"RUN!" Greta repeats as she grabs her sister's hand and flees.

Belinda lets out a high-pitched and very loud squeal as she's dragged along.