[What's this? It appears a giant fireball is hurtling toward the middle of a cornfield, potentially scorching square yards upon square yards of fertile farmland! Oh, the humanity! Uh-oh, here it comes... aaaaaand...
FWOOSH! The fireball lands dramatically, but when the smoke clears, the cornfield is more or less intact. Instead, there is a man wearing a very...
intricate costume, lying on his back and thoroughly dazed. He has absolutely no idea what just happened or where he is. Or why there's a manila folder resting comfortably on his chest.]
Unnngh... my head... ...Emma?
[He sits up, holding his head. He notices s scrap of paper on top of the folder that reads, "Mr. Summers: Your luggage is forthcoming. Please enjoy these alternative accommodations for the time being." That's when he sees just what he's wearing.]
Son of a--!
((OOC: Obligatory humiliating introduction post! Feel free to investigate, point and laugh, what have you.
EDIT: Out for a little while, but feel free to keep commenting. I'll pick it up when I'm back.))