Amy looked up at the building, back down at the gray business card Dark had included with the invitation, and back up at the building. She had the address right.
The building was taller than she'd expected and was covered in reflective windows. The traffic behind and around her seemed to bend oddly around the entire building. Nobody looked at it. No other cars stopped outside. It's almost as if it didn't exist.
Amy smiled. And stepped inside.
On the other side of the rotating doors was a posh lobby complete with a front desk, a trickling water feature, and even thick, pink(?) carpet. And did she smell bubblegum?
"Well, hello there! What an unexpected surprise!" That drawl was unmistakable. Amy whirled around and came face to bowtie with Wilford Warfstache himself in all his pink glory. "You must be the inimitable Miss Peebles!"
Amy opened her mouth, but Warfstache spoke. "I assume you're here for the grand tour! But of course, of course!" He draped a strong (and disturbingly familiar) arm around her shoulders and swept Amy away into an elevator, mashing the button for the second floor and humming a tune she only half-recognized as "Uptown Funk."
"Where are we...?" Amy started just before the elevator doors slid open to reveal a bustling clinic. It startled her so much that she barely felt Wilford push her forward into the fray. With all the flare of a TV drama, Dr. Iplier swept into the room, scrubs pristine and clipboard in hand.
"Shut up, nurse!" he shouted, tossing the clipboard over his shoulder and stopping in front of Wilford and Amy. "Oh, dear. You poor young woman, what could possibly be ailing such a beautiful lady such as yourself?" He spun her into the crook of his arm and dipped her back as though he was cradling a swooning person. "How can I be of assistance."
Well, somebody got all of Mark's charms, she thought, trying her hardest not to blush. "Um, I'm fine actually, and I'd kind of appreciate it if you let me go now."
Wilford snatched her away from the Doctor and tucked her back under his arm. "Hands off, Doc. I'm giving the young lady a tour, and there's no time for fooling around!" The Cotton Candy Killer escorted Amy through the clinic, deftly avoiding the jutting elbows and rolling stretchers.
"Is it really legal for him to treat all these people here? Is he even a real doctor?" Amy felt like her head was going to pop off from how quickly she was whipping it around in every direction.
"Of course, he's a real doctor! It's in his name, isn't it?" Wilford brought them to another elevator and mashed the button like he was gouging out an eye. "However, I feel the need to inform you that many of the people here are actors." Amy's eyes bulged, but Warfstache just shrugged. "The Doctor likes to play clinic, and we had extra money in the budget," he said flippantly as an actor pretended to puke into a trashcan and they popped back into the elevator.
"Now, where shall we go next?" Wilford cried, pressing another button before Amy could answer, but she bit back a wide smile. She felt like Alice fallen down the rabbit hole, and she couldn't wait to see just how far down it went.
