Zale was expecting Cody to be close to him in age but the vibe that he gave off certainly didn’t seem like he was younger than Zale. Nevertheless, it was true Zale didn’t mind that he was younger than he it was just surprising. After a bit of an awkward silence (which seems to be happening a lot) Zale replied.
“Oh y-your younger than m-me. I-I’m fifteen and a h-half.”
Even though Zale was still nervous he kind of liked talking to Cody. He never really talked to anyone especially now, but this was going better than he expected. Now that he was a little less nervous he finally got a good look at Cody.
“I -uh d-don’t mean to be rude, b-but what a-are you wearing? I h-have never seen someone w-wear something like that to something like this.” He gestured around the room to show that he stood out. Zale thought it was a bit strange that someone would wear that to a lecture hall but had brushed it off before because Cody looked like a welcoming person.

Cody felt his cheeks burning in embarrassment at Zale's question. For the thousandth time, he regretted wearing the cowboy hat and boots, as excited as he'd been about it. Reluctantly, he admitted, "Well... I mean, they said it was going to be an Old West thing, and at the Holiday Party last year all the staff was dressed up for the event, so I thought... well, I thought people might dress up."

He awkwardly adjusted his hat, and debating taking it off, even though it would be equally conspicuous to just carry the hat around. "I wanted a big costume event like this for a long time. When I was a kid, I mean!" He hastily added, ignoring the fact that that desire was still alive and well two hours ago.

Dr. Milner pushed against the stone slab at the end of the tunnel as hard as he could. All in all, sneaking out of the party upstairs had been the easy part, but it had taken him quite some time to find this tunnel in the basement. Still, his research had proven correct, and it was, indeed, there. Now if he could only get this last obstacle out of his way!

With one last oof!, the slab finally slid backwards, before falling down with a thud. He was almost sure he now felt a faint draft, even being as far down as he was. But he couldn't help it. Up ahead, he could see the door, the door to the place he had been looking for...he could hear strains of music from the party up above. Perhaps Anthony was playing? Whatever was happening there, he was not about to turn back now.

~~

Not long after, the guests upstairs were startled by a sudden flash of light. It came from beneath the floorboards, and blazed up until it engulfed everything and everyone in white. Once the light faded, they found themselves in strange apparel. Men wore straight wool pants, button down cotton shirts, neckties, canvas jackets, and boots with a pointed toe and a high heel. Most of the women found themselves in a lightly bustled polonaise of cotton or wool, with a rather jaunty updo and hat.

Worse than that however, was that the Mansion itself was gone. They no longer stood in the warm hall that had seen so many hap-hazard Holiday gatherings. Instead, they were outside, in the quickly disappearing twilight, in the middle of a dusty road. The light of a gas lamp flickered frenetically over them, bidding adieu to the last rays of sunlight.

There were a few buildings on either side of the road, but they seemed dark and deserted. Not a living soul was in sight, save for a few horses tied to a hitching post in front of the Tavern. From beyond the horses came flickering light, along with the sounds of music and muted conversation.

"Is this some kind of joke?!" One of the party goers called out.

Almost instantly after Cody's response a bright flash of light blinded Zale. After a few seconds of partial blindness Zale looked around only to see that the mansion was gone and everyone was wearing strange clothing. Zale immediately started to panic. What happened? Where am I? Why are we here? Where are mom and dad? Zale felt even more panicked after the last question came into his mind.

felling around for the yo-yo in his pocket Zale, almost frantically, started to look around for his parents the fears already creeping in his mind. What if he couldn't find them? What if... What if... they. Zale was trying not to focus on the bad things that could have happened. He began to force himself to think positive things, which seemed to calm him down a bit. If everyone from the party is here why would his parents not be? All i need to do is walk around to find them, right?

Just as Molly was about to answer the young violinist, there came a blinding flash of light. Simultaneously, she found herself out in the street--or some kind of a street. It sure didn't look like the usual road in front of the mansion. And who were all these people? They were dressed up as if for a play.

Never mind! She herself was not wearing her typical blouse and skirt; instead, she was clad in an elegant, if somewhat stiff, dress of full length. Good quality cloth, she noticed, and quite pretty, with little sprigs of flowers all over. She clapped her hands to her head, nearly knocking off the chip hat that was firmly pinned to her hair. Wow! there was something sharp on the top part of it.

Looking around, Molly began to slowly recognize the other people, who all looked about as dazed as she felt. They were all from the party at the Mansion. What in the world was going on? Was this some kind of an illusion, put on by the Mansion staff? Molly stamped her boot on the street, and a puff of dust came up. Evidently it was real enough. She just hoped that her footwear was going to fit--last time she had worn boots like this, she had come away with a bad set of blisters.

Anthony's ears rang and he squinted as his eyes tried to adjust from the well-lit room to the sudden flash and then to... western twilight?

There was still the comforting weight of his violin case at his back, but the strap seemed wrong, somehow, and the collar around his neck was high and tight. It didn't seem to be a dream, which was the only explanation he had for why his outfit had changed entirely.

Anthony shook his head a few times, but the piano music continued--and was that a kazoo? It seemed to be coming from the only building with light in its windows. He was sure he knew the theme, and he hummed along trying to run through the possibilities.

The kazoo made it a very... original... arrangement.

Well, there was one surefire way to find out. Anthony headed for the door, which creaked as he pushed it open. His attention was caught first by the sight of himself in the cracked mirror over the polished wooden counter.

"I look like the dandy in Showboat!" he exclaimed, delighted. He'd played in the orchestra for a production in his senior year, and while his fellow students had been less enthusiastic about the wardrobe, Anthony had wished for something a little more colorful than the black suit worn by the musicians. Now his wish had come true!

And in that moment of delight, he had an epiphany. He pointed at the musicians, who seemed bemused by a stranger interrupting and telling them what they already knew. "You're playing the Triumphal March from Aida!"

"Indeed!" the kazooist exclaimed, chuckling and running his hand through is own red hair. He grabbed a handful and looked Anthony up and down quizzically. No one else spoke.

"Ya any good with that fiddle, son?" he finally asked.

Anthony swung the violin case off his shoulder and set it on the counter, running his long fingers over the worn edges in a moment of wonder at the change in his situation. He couldn't contain his grin either--he had a fancy vest, frills on his shirt, and a velvet collar on the suitcoat!

"I like to think I am," he told the kazooist. If mental headspace was part of giving an excellent performance, Anthony was in the mood to take on Cousin Johnny's claim to be the 'best that's ever been'. Even better, Cousin Johnny wasn't here to defend the title. "Are you in the mood for Bizet? Offenbach? Massenet to tug the heartstrings? Shenandoah or House of the Rising Sun?"

Faye stood there blinking for a few moments, trying to clear the light out of her eyes. As she did, and as she became aware of her surroundings, a horrible thought struck her. She whirled around, and was immediately relieved to see Cody standing about twenty feet away, looking none the worse for wear. Her next thought, though, was surprise. Cody was still in his hat and cowboy boots, but before they'd been slick and new, and frankly looked like they'd come off an assembly line; now, though, they looked rough and worn, and like they were actually hand-made and authentic. He was also wearing a full costume, and not the clothes he'd come in.

Before she could think too much about this, she noticed her own clothes had suddenly grown much itchier. She glanced down, and realized that the dress she'd worn before was now replaced by a period dress. It was a similar, burgundy color, but she was wearing all the necessary petticoats, boots, and - yes, even a hat appropriate for the period. But... how?!

"Is this some kind of joke?!" She found herself wondering aloud. Her mind instantly flashed back to the Titan IC disaster, but she immediately dismissed the idea. No, no one could've possibly changed everything like that so quickly without being noticed.

There came a bright flash, and suddenly Dan found himself on a dusty old street surrounded by Old West-type buildings. His clothes felt stiff and slightly itchy, and he reached up to feel a genuine old-fashioned cowboy hat on his head.

His immediate reaction, a quote from Douglas Adams, might sound odd to those who didn't know him. Oh no, not again he thought.

He quickly spun around, taking in his surroundings, a little unstable in the boots he now wore, urgently seeking his wife and greatly relieved to see her standing nearby.

She had a puzzled look on her face - probably similar to the one he knew he wore - but seemed all right, save for the fancy hat and floor-length light blue dress she now wore.

"We're in period clothes," she said. "The real things, not fake ones."

"Are you all right?" he asked, still remembering the last time one of their adventures had gone wildly awry and she'd been seriously injured.

"I'm fine," she replied to his great relief. "I'm glad the girls are safe at home, though I'm sure Grace would love to be all dressed up like this." That was true enough; their older daughter loved to dress up in fancy clothes.

He stepped to her side and they inspected their surroundings more closely this time. The buildings seemed authentic in that they were real, not just store fronts like in a movie set, and they seemed somewhat worn rather than shiny and new. The gas lamp and dark buildings added reality to the scene.

"At least we're not alone," Angie said, seeing familiar faces about.

"Yup, but who would play a kazoo in the Old West?" Dan asked, as he followed his wife over to where Faye was standing.

"Zale, you okay?" Cody asked, though he was almost more interested in making sure Zale would respond than in what he actually said. This whole thing was surreal. It had to be a dream or something, right?

Not long after, Faye - completely unaware that the Baxters had been trying to approach her - came up to the two of them and quickly asked a similar question: "Cody, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Miss Brixton, just... confused. Does this kind of thing normally happen?"

"First time I've ever seen anything like it. I know Ditto Town is home to some strange happenings, but...." She shook her head. "Never mind, we'll figure that out later. Who's your friend? Was he at the party?"

Cody nodded. "This is Zale. Zale..." That's right, he'd never gotten his last name. But then again, right now Zale seemed a bit too distracted to answer that question.

Turning back to Cody he realized that another person had walked up to them. She looked a bit concerned for Cody and was looking at Zale.
Zale stammered, "Um h-hi. What i-is your n-name?"

"That's a nice set of strings, there," the kazooist smiled lopsidedly. "Family hairloom?"

"Ye all can get the fiddle insured later, Harry," a big man down at the end of the bar said. A titter of laughter ran through the room. "Why don't ya go ahead and play?"

"Well, I--I never heard of Shenandoher afore, Benjamin," Harry stuttered and turned slightly red.

"I wouldn't mind some dancin' music," the little lady to Benjamin's left said, smiling and dropping a wink Anthony's way.

Ottillia had went to the restroom immediately following the lecture to fix her make-up and check her hair. She had just returned to the room when a flash of light blinded her. When she could see again, she was dressed in a beautiful period dress and seemed to be somewhere else. She had always prided herself on dressing correctly for any occasion, but it didn't usually happen instantly. She searched her brain for the proper etiquette in this situation.

"Yes, ma'am," said Anthony. He saluted her with his bow. He'd have the room dancing in two jigs--or at least toe-tappin'. "Give us the beat, Harry, and make it lively."

The kazooist obliged, and Anthony made his violin sing as he launched into a set of fast-paced reels and fiddle tunes. He couldn't believe he'd led with that particular line, though. It was a family joke as old as dirt.