[ rita farr is always in dire need of her beauty sleep. on the station, time runs a little bit trickier since there's no actual sun to beam in through windows that simply aren't there, which means, really, that she could sleep just as much as she likes if she has nothing on the schedule. and, unfortunately, until she gets her workshops up and running, the lack of a day-to-day routine aside from her dozing hours leaves her little to be motivated about.

which means she's snoozing quite well right now, up until the rustling noise about the room prompts her to stir, finally blinking awake when she hears the voice —

and seeing a talking dog.

of course she screams, and for a hollywood starlet, what a classic monster movie heroine scream it is as she jolts to sit up. unfortunately, trying to scramble away from whatever creature has stepped into her room has her crawling towards the side of the bed blindly, swiftly falling over the edge.

a solid body falling to the floor would typically result in the sound of a thump, but instead it's the sound of something like a large mold of jello hitting the floor. because instead of a woman there, a giant round flesh-covered blob lays there. all too soon, a voice shouts from it. ]

What, pray tell, are you doing here? Or, more importantly, what are you!? Coming into a lady's room unannounced, talking death, looking like that — that's not how you wake up a person!