fandomtownies | Serenity Cove, Early Tuesday

At some point in the early morning, a very large and impressive looking yacht pulled into Serenity Cove. On the deck stood a rather attractive but severe looking woman in a red bikini and high heels. Cigarette in hand, she surveyed the island with a look of mild disgust.

A slightly older gentleman, dressed very smartly in a vest and tie, approached the woman from behind, “Madame,” he said in a proper British accent, “the captain has informed me that the docks are located on the other side of the island. With your permission, we can make our way…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Andrew,” the woman cut him off. “It will take far too long to navigate this heap around the island to tie up at some dock. You will simply row me ashore from here. I’m fairly certain I see a hotel.” She pointed an immaculately manicured finger towards the Arms Hotel in the distance.

Knowing that it was best not to argue with his employer, Andrew replied, “I will make sure that the dingy is gassed and ready to be put in the water, Madame.”

“Andrew, what part of ‘row’ seems to be addling your brain? We cannot use the engine. It causes spray. Spray will frizz my hair. I will NOT arrive to my new home with frizzy hair.”

“Yes, Madame.” Andrew gave her a short bow and began to move away.

“And Andrew!”

“Yes, Madame?”

“Tell the captain that after we have left, he is to take the ship around to the dock and have the rest of my luggage sent to the hotel.”

“Yes, Madame.”

“And see if you can’t call that mayor person about setting up a time to view this mansion for sale. And make sure to bring the good champagne – there’s no telling what kind of swill will they will try and pass off as palatable on this island. Oh, and phone the contractors to see when they will be able to start construction.”

“Yes, Madame.” Andrew waited a moment before leaving, just in case there was another command coming.

“Well don’t just stand there, Andrew. I’m in a hurry!” As he rushed off, the woman turned back to the island and mumbled to herself, “Joanna Stayton, bringing the joys of miniature golf to the common people. Pathetic. Though the sooner I get off this tub, the better.”

Joanna kicked the hull of the Immaculata, and a resounding boom echoed out across the bay. She hopped around the deck, grasping her pointed toes, “Son of a… Andrew!”

[ooc: establishy but ooc comments are amazing!]

Serenity Cove, Early Tuesday

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