I wish to openly praise those of you who have stayed loyal to this story for the now two years it has been in existence. I know, I update so scarcely and obviously don't really have a planned ending to this story, but I suppose spontaneity could bring some nice surprises. Please continue to enjoy~

"Mother? Thank god! I've been trying to reach you for the past twenty minutes! Where have you been?"

"Sally, I'm so sorry; we were hit by this bus—"

"What?"

"Long story. Morris, the man who owns that café uptown, had to take Christine and the others to the hospital; nobody's going to die, don't worry. But I have some more drastic news."

Sally was silent on the other end, waiting anxiously for the update.

"There are more of them—the three drag queens from Priscilla. But the frightening bit is that they didn't arrive with the others. Gomez told me that he had no idea who these people are. There may be more of them out there; we don't know how many, how they got here, or even if they're all in Manhattan. Sally, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

"Deep musical shit, that's for certain."

"What do we do? Rent a zoo and corral these characters until we find a way to deal with them? We don't know where they came from or how to get them home. But why is this happening? Why are they here and why do we have to be the ones to deal with it?"

"Mom, calm down; where are you right now?"

"I'm at the police station with the drag queens. None of them could produce a valid U.S. driver's license after the accident so they were escorted to the police station. I must say, it was quite a sight: that silly pink bus being escorted through Manhattan by the NYPD." She chuckled lightly, despite her stressful situation. "I'm working the authorities now; I'm hoping to finish here by this afternoon. Once Christine is released from the hospital, I'll pick everyone up and drive into Times Square. Just keep your eyes out for the big pink bus."

*PAGE BREAK*

"Seventy-second street…we should have passed the café by now; wasn't it back in the eighties?" Elphaba observed.

"It must have been on the east side, which makes us on the wrong side," Morticia stated. The others, unfamiliar with the city, let alone the country and time period, returned perplexed glances. "I believe we have to cross through Central Park."

"Since when have you become such an expert on Manhattan geography?" the Phantom prodded sarcastically.

"I am no expert; the city I am familiar with apparently existed more than half a century ago. However, this outdated knowledge is likely to be more helpful than nothing."

Sweeney Todd unsheathed a razor blade and sank away from the conversation. He could sense an oncoming dispute and wanted no part in it.

"Arguing will get us nowhere," Elphaba said, attempting to appease the situation.

"We need a better plan," the Phantom growled. "This current one has gotten us nowhere."

"Do you have any better ideas-perhaps one of those communication devices or appropriate contact information to reach Bill?" Morticia demanded.

Before the Phantom could respond, two women, each with a very confused and startled-looking child in tow, raced up from the nearby subway station, nearly bowling over the four loitering characters.

"Excuse you," Sweeney Todd mumbled bitterly.

"Where the hell are we?" one woman, tall with messy red hair, said to the other, who was smaller but professionally dressed with a closely trimmed bob.

"We were just wondering the same thing," Elphaba cut in.

The second woman, after a single glance at Elphaba, was violently startled. "Are you—"

"Green? It's a long story. Listen—we may not be of much help, but may I ask where you are trying to go?"

The woman collected herself and attempted to exhibit an element of politeness. "It's actually quite a funny situation. See, I was taking my daughter, Louise, to an audition in San Francisco, but when we stepped off of the train, we were somewhere else. I just so happened to bump into this woman, who was also taking her boy to an audition, only she claims to have been in London; it's all very strange."

"This all sounds terribly familiar," Elphaba observed. "The four of us are just as perplexed by stories very similar to yours, Miss. A kind man was trying to help guide us, but we were recently kidnapped and separated from him; we're trying to figure out what to do and where to go."

"Well, do you mind if we join you then?" the taller woman asked in such a thick accent, Elphaba had to take a moment to decipher a meaning.

"Not at all; maybe a larger group will draw more attention. My name is Elphaba; this is Sweeney Todd, Morticia Addams, and the Phantom."

"Lovely to meet you strange folks. My name is Rose and this is my daughter, Louise. She's going to be a star one day." She politely shook Elphaba's hand. Louise gave a shy but kind smile.

"I'm Mrs. Wilkinson and this is a student of mine, Billy Elliot; pleased to meet you."

With introductions out of the way, Elphaba began to formulate a plan. "Bill mentioned that we're all characters from various musicals and that we don't belong here; he seemed committed to helping us, but I'm not precisely certain how he plans to restore our former lives. Perhaps the four of you are in a similar situation."

"If my instincts are correct, we're in New York City; right?" Rose asked.

"Correct."

"If what you say is true—that we're all various show personalities—shouldn't we be looking in the theatre district? It is, after all, the heart of the entire theatre industry."

"Where is that?" Sweeney Todd asked, a new glint of hope drawing his interest into the conversation.

"Times Square, of course."

"How do we get there? I'm not going back on that train!" Morticia declared.

"Follow Broadway; we'll get there eventually," Rose proposed.