Back to the Future? Back to reality.

Brenda paced the mall floor, her posture tight and nervous. She pressed the phone tightly to her human ear as she looked around for somewhere with a bit more privacy. A maintenance hallway leading to the bathrooms caught her eye and she started that direction when Amy answered.

"Brendan, are you Ok?" The urgent voice on the other side asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine 'mom'. Sheesh . I found a kid who was able to open up the gun, and connect it to his computer. It doesn't look great, it's busted, and there's a lot of error screens, but there's a chance we can fix this." He tells her of the broken and displaced crystals as well as the terminal screens that seem to have a direct input to the functions of the machine.

Brenda could hear a staticky sigh. "Well, it's a start. Things haven't been as fruitful on my end. I thought I had some luck with searching for Pat, but every time I find a lead, the paper trail just vanishes... "

*ding
The chime of a table bell interrupts Amy, ripping her voice from Brenda's ears. The conversation is replaced with a sudden bustle. People talking, the clatter of dishes being washed and prepared, a cook calling out orders. The maintenance hallway is gone replaced with a bright noisy café.

Vertigo hits Brenda, and she staggers into the high bar behind her.

"Whoa easy there sweetheart." A gruff but tender voice calls out.

Brenda doesn't acknowledge the speaker as she gapes and turns around. Across the bar patrons fill cherry red booths lining the far wall. Each booth has a dramatic white V in the center reminiscent of the hoods of classic American muscle cars. A neon bright jukebox in the corner rocks the cafe to the sounds of Elvis, while waitresses in white and red striped skirts and decorative white half aprons dance across the checkered floor. A girl styling wavy blond pinup hair struts past her on the other side of the bar, carrying a tray of two tall milkshake glasses, each frosty and decorated with candy cane straws, a swirl of whip cream, and the iconic cherry on top.

"What the hell?" Brenda mutters.

"Hey Brenda." The voice from before calls her again.

She looks around, then looks down, startled to see she's wearing that same uniform as the other waitresses. The 50s notched collar plunges deep between her modest cleavage, giving her a remarkable first person view that would be a bit thrilling in a different context. The skirt is puffed up around her waist, tickling her thighs, and bobbing with every movement.

"Brenda, Sweetie, you ok?"

She blinks once, then twice, then makes a startling realization. Outside of suddenly finding herself here... Everything feels completely normal, and that in itself feels utterly strange. She looks to the left and sees the expected neon sign "Dottie's Diner". She sighs in relief. "It's the stupid theme restaurant on the south end of the mall." She laughs, breaking the tension that had built up in her mind. "Holy hell, I thought I had time traveled" Her hand goes to her head, where she finds another surprise. "The ears!" She exclaims, she pats her head looking for them, but they're gone. Only the two long braids remain. She feels above her rear, and beneath the poof of her skirt for the tail, but it's gone too.

"Brenda!" The gruff voice shouts.

Startled, Brendan turns and faces the voice. Through the order window into the kitchen is a stocky older man that towers over her. Big nose, big cheeks, big friendly eyes, and an even bigger belly.

"Hey, table 9's order's right here."

Brenda blusters. "Y-yeah. I uhh. had a headrush or something. Must of stood up too fast." She peeps out an excuse.

"You were already standin'." He reply's with a squint that's equal parts concern and stern insistence.

"Yeah" Brenda laughs nervously. "I guess I was." She grabs a tray and starts stacking the plates before hoisting it upright over her shoulder and scurrying out from behind the bar and away from the cook. She knew where table 9 was, and with a smile, she gives each person their order.
"Steakburger and onion rings, all the way." She smiles to the teen. "Chicken nuggets and fries" She passes the plate to the highly caffeinated kid, "Aaaand two burger supreme's, hold the pickles and onions for the lady." She finishes serving the family with a sparkling smile, almost literally considering her braces. She was proud at how easily she could remember all the orders at all of her tables, no matter how busy she became, never having to look at the order booklet in the pocket of her apron. Her sharp memory was one reason she had gone to lawschool after all. But that didn't explain how the hell she remembered their orders this time.

Her frantic confusion was stuffed into the back of her mind as she continued on autopilot. She cocks a hip out to the side, bouncing the skirt cutely, and asks "Anything else I can getcha'? She'd learned that a perky persona usually got her a few extra tips, and Mr.Parker her boss liked it when they took on the 50s jargon anyway. The family was satisfied but with a sharp eye she caught the nearly empty glass of tea a few tables over.

Her body continued on autopilot but her eyes were wide and frenzied as she fetched a pitcher of tea and made for the table. She started talking to herself in an attempt to ground her reality. "Ok. I'm waiting tables? Apparently? Ok... Stay calm." Her heart pounded in her chest. "I'm fine for now. I'm ok. Everyone thinks this is normal, so just play along for now. Something must have gone wrong with the gun."

"Let me get that for you hun." She offered, as she cam up beside the man with the nearly empty glass, and touched his shoulder. He and two other guys were scarfing down burgers as she filled their glasses. The touch was calculated. Human connection gets bigger tips. Sometimes that's conversation. Sometimes that's compliments, but if you could get away with it, physical touch was always a good angle. Those sorts of subtle strategies gave her the advantage of the human element in court. She furrowed her brow. That final thought didn't quite seem to parse. Court? Why was she thinking about court?

"Hold on a second." She thought to herself as she strutted back behind the bar. "I'm a lawyer, not a waitress. I'm Brendan, BRENDAN! My boyfriend must have..." She froze. Boyfriend? Why had she thought that the nerdy kid who had helped her with the gun was her boyfriend? "JACK." She hissed under her breath. "That weaselly kid. What did he do?"

"Brenda, you ok?" The blonde woman from before appeared beside her and gently rubbed her back. "You're so out of it today."

Christi had been her mentor since she'd started a few months ago. She was the sort who reveled in the 50s role, being an amateur actress at the local blackbox theater, and styling a rockabilly aesthetic even during her down time. She was the one who had coached Brenda on how to ... how to...

Brenda shook her head. She needed to confront Jack... But she didn't want to let her coworkers down. She was only months away from getting her employee plaque on the... becoming a partner at firm... Being employee of the... "I've got to get out of here." Brenda realizes.

"Hey," She suddenly speaks up. "Sorry minor emergency I need to go on break. I-I'll be back as soon as I can... Or... No. I need to take the day off." She stammered her excuse to Christi, who she realized had no authority to excuse her.

"Christi's brow tilted in concern. "Alright... We're not too busy I guess. Just check with Parker."

Brenda squirmed at the concept, and glanced at the kitchen window. How could she be nervous at this? She used to face down hostile witnesses in court, and now a line cook had her squirming in her sneakers. She glanced to the window and bit her lip, but was relieved when the gruff man appeared and gently said. "Take the day off sweetheart, I could tell something's got ya distracted."

"T-Thanks!" Brenda stammered, and stepped into the employee break room. There she found a black hoodie she knew to be hers, and a backpack. The hoodie had long bunny ears on the hood, and a tail on the rear. She slipped the hoodie on, grabbed her backpack, and fled the diner. She had to find Jack, get the gun, and set things right.