A

[Donald's... used to ending up in weird places by now. Not enough to like it, but at this point it's less surprising and more depressing. At least once he got over the initial panic.

Granted, the ticket thing was new (how fancy), but the first thing he's doing is trying to find the management. Because. You know. That worked out so well last time.

So yeah, there's just. A duck running around yelling at anyone (and anything) he encounters, as one does, in-between intervals of trying to tug the band off of his arm.]

Hey, what's the big idea? I didn't sign up for this! Somebody get this stupid thing off my wrist!

B

[Luckily, if there's anything that alleviates the pain of being stuck somewhere else again, it's Dole Whip. Lots of Dole Whip.

The table he's been occupying for most of the afternoon is currently empty save for the twenty or so Dole Whips just sitting there. You're welcome to attempt to take one, if you want, but if you do Donald will be quick to appear from... wherever he'd wandered off to, slapping it out of your hand and onto the ground.]

Beat it! Go buy your own!

Wildcard

[Want to do something else instead? Hit me!]