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He wasn't the ugliest man Maxine had ever seen; his face was decent enough, his teeth pretty much straight, eyes about the right distance apart, nose in the proper location. He wasn't ugly; he was simply repulsive.

The redhead met him at the reception desk, with a warm smile. "Welcome to Fox News, Mr. Brown—I'm Maxine Ralls. Your mother and I spoke on the phone." Lovely lady. Probably had chinchillas for feet. "Do we shake hands?" She asked, with a good-natured crinkle around her eyes and an outstretched hand.

She'd shake, all right, if that's what he wanted: however that worked, with Australian rodents wiggling were a real man had real hands. At least he was still jail bait; she'd hate to meet him when he was old enough to really make her man-senses tingle.

"If you'll come with me, we've got an interview room set up on the ninth floor." She said, with and absolutely cordial air. The things a girl did to make the news.

He didn't expect it to be? What did that mean?

"Why couldn't this be my power growth? What, are flying pens and octoclips not cool enough to be up there with some kind of... of... movie walking?" The redhead asked, her animated hands on her Disney-style hips. They'd gotten even more curvy since she put on the dress. "If it's not mine, then just whose do you think it is, Lord Pink?"

Please let it be her growth. Please, please, please. She needed something cooler than flying pens and octoclips. She needed Disney princesses to slay, and minor villains to live happily ever after.

The Pastel Knight had a point, though. Maxine crouched even more furtively; enough that the animators obligingly shaded out a shadow from the tree to hide them both. There was no way Aurora would see them now: a light shadow was as good as an invisibility cloak, in a Disney movie.

The redhead nodded, hunkering down to wait as the woodland creatures turned into the cast of Glee, and Prince found Princess once upon a dream. "We should wait for our chance. Try to get some wands, for starters..."

And the incantation for that dragon-shifting spell. How did it go? Something about 'Hell'—she remembered gasping when she was a kid. It had been the strongest word she'd ever heard in a Disney movie.

That was then. This was now.

Gawain was right: it was major villains they needed to be.

"*&$@ yes, I did," she said, this time with more of a grin. "How many of these do you think I have to drop before they boot us up to a PG-13 rating? @#$%ing %$#^ers #$%^--" She sang jokingly.

"&^%@ers @#$%!" A little blue bird echoed in perfect harmony from a branch above their heads, its breast proudly puffed.

2D animation didn't quite cover the full extent of her expression, just then. "...Okay, so maybe G is a good place to be." PG, at the highest. Because... it was one thing for Maxine to do it. If the woodland creatures all pitched in, in true Disney style... that would about break her childhood.

>> "So, I can't help but notice we are in one of your favorite movies. Got somethin' to say about that?..."

"Yes, actually, I do," she said, with a little twirl of her skirts. "This is fantastic. We've got to find the person who did this, and—and..."

The first time, it had happened with her show.

Now, it was her favorite movie.

The redhead stopped twirling with a sudden blink. "Gawain," she said slowly, "you don't... think this is my power growth, do you?" She hadn't started sensing televisions—didn't she always start with the sensing, first? But then, usually she animated the object; it didn't animate her.

If this was... if she could...

Oh god. They were doing a Western next; anything with Clint Eastwood. After that, Titanic—not the end, of course, but there were certainly a few scenes before that where they could... well. Heh. Then... Nemo! Would they be little fish? Adorable! After that—

>> "I think we just went from comic relief to minor villains."

The redhead narrowed her eyes, and did her best job at edging behind a tree that couldn't possibly hide her poofy dress. The gears in her mind visibly turned; one movie at a time.

"Good idea," she whispered. "Do you want to take the prince, or the princess?"

"Hmm?" Maxine murmured, smoothing down the front of her dress. Not bad, if she did say so her...

Pink. Gawain was so very, very—

She clapped a hand over her mouth, not noticing the little round woman who was looming behind her with surprising efficiency. The fairy godmother raised her wand, but before she could say anything—

They were in a dark castle, on a foreboding mountain peak. There was something even better than cake batter here.

"Haven't you found her yet?" Maleficent's displeasure oozed over her underlings as they scurried to explain. They'd checked every town, forest, crib— Why yes, they had been looking for a baby all these years.

"It's so hard to find good help, isn't it?" The redhead oozed back. In her dress of black, it was hard not to notice a certain matching color scheme between the women in this room. Now she wouldn't have done that on purpose, would she? It's not as if she'd known where the next scene would take them. Really, who ever memorized their favorite childhood movies? Who ever planned out exactly what they would say, if they could walk into a scene?

The fairy queen paused in her diabolical tirade. Danger hung heavy in that silence. "And you would be?"

"Ralls. Lady Ralls, of Tyrant Peak." 'Tyrant' from 'Tyrannosaurus, of course—her favorite dinosaur, back when she was seven. The redhead bobbed in a graceful curtsey, never breaking eye contact. "This is my associate, Lord... Pink. Of Orkney."

The tall fey considered them; Gawain even merited an understated raise of her thin black eyebrow. "Yes. I believe I've heard of you. Now; tell me why I should not make your names infamous over all the land, as the fools who came into my castle uninvited."

"Because, your Majesty, I bring you two gifts. For the first: I can tell you precisely where the princess Aurora will be this evening."

Only a flicker of interest, quickly contained below her cool mask. As expected of the redhead's favorite Disney villain. "And the second?"

She curtseyed again, flaring her black and silver skirts a bit wider this time. "Myself, as your humble apprentice."

She'd hand-written fanfics about this moment in the third grade, and forced her parents to pretend to be interested as she read them. So help her if Lord Pink ruined this moment.

Before they started... oh god, he was right. Soon they'd be off into the true-love-at-first-sight soundtrack. Oh, hormones. She'd seen enough of that in middle school to last her a lifetime; and trust her, kids—it wasn't happily every after at that age. More like happily ever Seven Minutes of Heaven...

Right: they had to find a mirror. Maxine started pawing through the room—it seemed like an old abandoned bedroom, where people tossed extra furniture and nick-knacks to be forgotten. There had to be a mirror somewhere.

"Do you have any ideas on who our prankster is yet? It should definitely be someone with an ability that's already like this—some kind of putting-people-in-things-thingie." She was always eloquent, when engaged in rummaging. There was something on the wall over there, if only she could squeeze past this table and that wardrobe.

To be honest... this was kind of fun. She pulled at a drawstring covering the thing on the wall, and voila—

"Found--! Woah." It was the first time she'd gotten a look at herself. Her animated self. Her red hair in a shade of flame real girls would kill to have naturally; her too-innocent green eyes; the sly tilt lurking at the corners of her mouth, and the set of her slender eyebrows. Ack, and the freckles. They would animate the freckles. Still... "I haven't had skin this nice since the sixth grade," Maxine commented, giving herself an admiring once-over. Not to mention the waistline. You couldn't have boobs with that waist; not in real life. On impulse, she pulled open the wardrobe she'd wiggled past; sure enough, there were a few of those ridiculously poofy dresses inside. She pulled one out, and held it up in front of her.

"You know," she said slyly, "I think there are some of those tunic-things in there, too."

Couldn't they stay in prankland? Just a bit longer? She could put up with a little singing, if it meant playing dress up with a Prince.

"What? No!" She didn't know if he had any animated ribs under that shirt, but her elbow was drawn as quite the fine point. "Maleficent is the best! She was my hero when I was a kid. I had a big stuffed dragon, and everything." Until Rex had been born: he'd quickly dismantled all her childhood toys. The stuffing carnage had made her older brother laugh so hard, she'd had no choice but to punch him.

"Now look what you made me do. We missed her monologue!" Maxine huffed; her hair briefly huffed with her, like a little row of snakes that quickly settled back down. Except for two stray strands, that stayed curled above her head in a semblance of her hero's horns...

They were already past the cursing. Stupid Gawain, with his stupid threats. Now the scene was going to follow those fairies—

"Gah!" Those fairies could really book it up the stairs. And suddenly Maxine and Gawain were on the stairs behind them, with the whole world moving around them as they headed towards the room where the fairies would lay their futile plans to hide the Pretty Princess. She didn't know what would happen if they were too slow to stay on camera, and she didn't really want to find out.