"I told you not to call me Dana!" she snapped, her voice rising in volume and pitch. "I said to call me Red!"
Her face was flushed, and her eyes were flashing with fury.
Kenny was taken aback by this sudden change in her demeanor. He had no idea how it all got to this, but he knew he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and set her off further.
Dana whirled around to face the receptionist, her face still flushed with anger. "You," she said, "I'm giving you ten seconds to tell me where the restroom is, or else I'm going to..."
She sighed, slapping her forehead. Then, she looked at the receptionist again and continued, "Not ten seconds. I gave you three seconds, in fact, to tell me where the restroom is, or else I will really give you a wedgie and then spank your whooped ass additionally as a birthday gift."
The receptionist trembled with fear. Dana's anger was palpable, and the threat of a wedgie was more than a little disturbing.
The receptionist quickly pointed down the hall, her voice shaking. "Just go to the end of the hallway, and you'll see a door that says 'Restroom,'" she said.
She hoped that would be enough to appease the angry woman, and that she wouldn't follow through on her threats.
"Well, Thanks." Dana didn't look particularly grateful as she said it. In fact, she sounded almost sarcastic.
She turned and headed down the hallway, leaving Kenny and the receptionist speechless in her wake.
They both stood there in silence for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Finally, Kenny broke the silence. "That was... intense," he said, his voice still shaky.
The receptionist wasn't about to let this slide. She snatched up the phone and dialed the security department, her voice rising in pitch and volume.
"Send security down here immediately!" she barked into the phone. "There's a crazy woman on the premises, and I need help getting her out of here!"
She slammed the phone down, her face red with fury. "That woman is going to regret the day she ever stepped foot in this place," she muttered under her breath.
"Hmph! Hmph! Hmph!"
Dana sighed with relief with each step she took, walking down the hallway, searching for the restroom door the receptionist mentioned.
As she walked down the hallway, Dana noticed three rooms, one on each side. The first room had a group of young children dancing ballet to waltz music.
In the second room, a man in his early twenties was playing the violin, wearing headphones that must have been playing some sort of recording for him to follow.
The third room was filled with young women posing for a camera crew, possibly a photo shoot or something similar. Each room was open to the hallway, with no doors to separate them.
This was obviously an entertainment building, and it was only natural that there would be all kinds of artistic activity going on. Still, her need for relief was becoming more and more urgent.
She would definitely check out those other rooms later, but right now, she just needed to find that restroom.
Just as Dana was about to round the corner, she heard a familiar robotic voice in her head, announcing in a tinny, computerized tone - Hollywood.
[Smile, Miss Red! Frowning decreases your charm points!]
Dana wasn't in the mood for Hollywood's robotic advice. "Just shutdown, you infernal machine!" she snapped, her voice rising in anger. "I'm not in the mood for your patronizing nonsense!"
She continued walking, muttering "hmph" with every step, her irritation growing with each passing moment.
'I can't believe I'm arguing with a disembodied robot. Damn,' she thought to herself. 'This has got to be the most ridiculous life I've ever lived.'
[I was only doing my job and again, I can hear your thoughts]
Dana chose to ignore Hollywood and continued on her way. Just then, she saw the sign she'd been searching for - "Restroom" - hanging over a door down the hall.
There were two doors - one for women and one for men. She breathed a sigh of relief - she had finally found what she was looking for.
However, Vance, who was inside Dana, was accustomed to using male restrooms. Instinctively, he walked into the male restroom, luckily finding it empty. Or so he thought.
Inside, there were four doors labeled 1, 2, 3, 4. Dana entered the first door, reaching down to adjust her clothing, only to be reminded by Hollywood.
[This will be the second time your reaction will be new, considering you're now in a feminine body—the host body, Dana Morgan, with female anatomy]
Dana groaned, a mix of frustration and humor evident in her voice. "How am I supposed to use the bathroom without my 'special tool'?" she muttered under her breath.
[Tool? I have no idea what that is]
[Would you like me to provide a holographic diagram explaining the process of urination in a female body, or would you prefer a verbal explanation?]
(A\N: Okay, Mister Hollywood, you're quite annoying yunno that?)
"You stupid robotic controller!" Dana shouted, smacking the wall with her palm. "You think you're so smart, huh! But how am I supposed to Pee at this point?"
Her voice was filled with frustration and annoyance, and she glared at the blank screen, wishing she could just hold or capture that robotic controller physically, that was causing her so much trouble.
Just as Dana was about to continue cursing Hollywood with the regular foul language, she heard a loud bang on the door, followed by a man's voice. "Hey, lady!" he yelled. "What the heck are you doing in the men's room?"
"Mind your own business!" Dana yelled back, her voice quivering with anger. "Go get a life and learn to shut your ears while living!"
She then turned her attention back to the robotic Hollywood and glared.
"You stupid robotic controller! Hollywood or whatever you call yourself" she spat, her voice trembling. "I don't like this shitty game you're playing with me. It ain't manly. Come to me one on one and let's dig it man to man!"
She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt like she might faint.
Dana's anger began to subside but then she noticed something unpleasant - she had wet herself.
"Screw the devil!"
She felt a mix of shame and embarrassment as she stared down at the wet patch on her pants - those new pants. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, and fished her phone out of her pocket.
She tapped on Kenny's contact and hit "call," her voice flat and resigned as she said, "I need new pants."
She ended the call before he could respond, not wanting to deal with his questions or concerns.