"Good morning, babe! Uh, I can barely hear you. What was that? I'm a waste of time? What do you mean by that? Oh. Michelle messed up space and time. Well, where are you then? And why can't I hear you that well?"
"Yes! It is Michelle that has the tele-thingie! Her witch pals decided to have some fun with the house so we're stuck six hours in the past. She won't give it to me so I'm stuck with the new-fangled phone-thingie." Would you give it to me already, Michelle? He muttered as the old woman chattered merrily away.
"She better not be doing anything remotely close to any thingie! What? Oh, she's trying to call her witch pals.Can they fix time and space and get you guys back here?" Brooke sighed despondently. This is what happened when your landlady was friends with the occult element.
"Hey! Good news, angel!" Connor said, now much clearer with the dish in his hand. "The witches are in the basement with their spell-books. Hopefully they're fixing everything and turning Michelle into a toad."
Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning and the sickly sweet stench of death. "Uh, I think something messed up downstairs, angel."
"What do you mean? Wait! What am I doing in my party dress? This was from last night!" Brooke looked behind her to see Connor with a relieved smile on his face. "You mean to say the witches brought me back six hours instead of you guys forward?"
"I think so." He said. "However, I think something went wrong."
"It did." A sad voice rasped. "Anyone for a funeral?"