Third Rock Comics, Ickibar Space Station, Saturday Late Afternoon Fandom Time

This layover had been inconvenient at best, infuriating at worst, until Katchoo felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She let the call ring through to voicemail, too busy arguing with the cosplay freak who'd gotten up in her face (or more precisely, whose face she'd gotten up into) to derail her yelling just yet.

When she finally listened to the message, she regretted the ever-loving shit out of not picking up.

"Oh, Jesus," she muttered once she'd retreated to a corner of the shop. "Oh, frikkin' crap on a goddamn stick."

[OOC: For Francine if she wishes, or texts/calls if anyone else wishes!]