Linda, meanwhile, was utterly lost. She glanced around at the intersection at which she stood, having no idea where she was supposed to be in relation to her destination, which she now recalled as some club called the Spiked Pit.
Uttering all manner of curses under her breath, Linda retrieved her phone from her boot and went to make a call.
"Hey, it's me," Linda said angrily. "I need you to come find me. I'm at the corner of 16th and Lake Street. Don't ask me how I fucking got here, you don't want to know. Anyhow, I figure you're my best shot, and unless you want to go up on stage tonight without a fucking singer, I suggest you get me out of this hellhole." Linda snapped the phone shut, unaware that she had completely perplexed the person on the other end.
