[The room is an artifact. A living fossil. A window to another time. The lime green cabinetry and rounded fridge emblazoned with a chrome symbol of a long forgotten product line, the brilliant red and chrome formica tabletop and matching chairs. The floral pattern lazy susan on the middle of the table our camera appears to be resting on with a swan-shaped sugar bowl. Everything all polished, shiny, and sparkling. It looks like the place was yanked right out of the 1950's.]
[It makes things all the more jarring when suddenly the lights go out for a moment, then when they come on again someone is sitting in the chair. Tanned, blonde hair in a pixie bob that looks cemented in place, a headband and matching floral print dress, and… oh.]
[The orange eyes and the grin that has far too many teeth, though they're white, overly large, and square instead of sharp, pointy, and/or serrated tell us that this is Claudia Kajara with a wig and a fuckton of makeup.]
[The smile, for once, doesn't reach her eyes and she seems sad and almost on the verge of tears.]
"It's not a fun time for you, is it Joe? With your contributions ignored, your hard work cast aside, and the time and effort you put in unrewarded."
[Despite the sorrow in her eyes, Claudia's voice is strangely happy and chipper.]
"That's okay. Well, you feeling that way. It's not okay to be dumped on. But it sure is a thing that's happening alright."
"Because now is not a fun time. This particular stretch of time has taken fun, wrapped it up in duct tape, stuffed it in George Clooney's bum, wrapped George Cloony up in duct tape, stuck him in a padded wooden crate and shipped him off to that warehouse at the end of Raiders of the Lost Arc."
