Through the Looking Glass (Apologies to Brandy)

You go back through the mirror and look around cautiously. All is dark. "Fred?" you ask.

"Right here," your friend replies, simultaneously grabbing your shoulder. "It looks like we solved that problem."

You smile, but as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you realise that you no longer are indoors, but standing on some sort of beach. No, it cannot be a beach; there is no water anywhere in sight. You are in a desert!

Fred reaches this conclusion at the same time as you. "I sure hope that werewolves are immortal," he says. "Because otherwise, we're toast."

Written by Joey Liverwurst (edited by phaedrus)

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