PLAY WITH MARY PLAZ!
Mary was a country girl. The town she had lived for most of her life consisted of less that five-thousand people. She’d been in Boston for almost a week, and from what she could tell out of the half a million people who lived in Boston, most of them were absolute Mingers. She hugged her handbag close to her as she navigated her way through the city crowds; she was thinking about Michael, her best friend in the whole world, her best friend who was at home in England, she missed him a frightful amount. If she was at home, she’d be watching old Doctor Who reruns with him in her parent’s lounge, eating chips while pretending to find the show’s villains the most terrifying thing imaginable. Michael had the best girly scream. She was pulled out of her thoughts by an odd clacking sound.

The brunette stopped walking. The clacking stopped. The brunette started to walk again. The clacking continued. She stopped and looked down at her Doc Martins. Her eyes narrowed. There was a piece of bright orange paper stuck to the bottom on her left boot. Sighing, Mary balanced herself on one foot and reached to pick the flyer for half priced vegetarian buffet off her shoe. Unfortunately, she never got so far. In the crowded city streets, somebody walked into the back of Mary, propelling her forward into another stranger with an ungraceful thud and a muffled ‘ooopfh!’ noise.