The first thing that came back was her hearing. An incessant popping noise along with half of a dozen voices. Then she could feel the popping coincide with some strange tapping on her legs. And all she knew was that she was a long way from Tinker Avenue.

“Wha’sss goin’ on?” She slurred, forcing her eyes to open only to be assaulted by a bright light.

She heard rapid talking in a foreign language as a response. Then she heard loud footsteps of someone in heels and the light above her dimmed as a face entered her line of vision. It was of a woman who seemed to have more makeup than skin on her face.

“Don’t worry, child. We saved you from that awful man who was going to sell you as a harlot. You get to work here now, at Live Canvases, and lead a fulfilling life as a full-time canvas for Jon Meghrit-Pontaeu. We’re just putting on the last of the jewels and you’ll be ready for your first exhibition. This design you’re honored to wear is called Bejewled. Wear it proudly when you’re in the window of the shop.”