During the drive, Becky ran through her plan in her head. She was angry and upset, but at the same time, she didn't want to make a scene. The last thing Becky wanted was this story to get into the papers or posted online. She wanted to preserve her mom's reputation no matter what. 

When Becky arrived at the town hall, everything was as Becky expected. It was your usual small public building with little to no glitz. It was the type of place that usually hosted community talks and amateur performances. Becky parked and walked into the lobby. She had planned to say she was the lighting girl and hope they would let her through, but such an excuse wasn't needed. There didn't seem to be anyone around, allowing her to slip into the backstage area unseen. 

After a few minutes of walking, Becky spotted a dressing room that had its door open a crack. Inside, she could make out Felicia's jacket moving just inside the room. Becky had planned what to say, how to approach this calm and diplomatically. But at that moment, her anger and frustration overflowed. Weeks of confusion and fear turned into a white-hot rage that burned in Becky's stomach. Before she knew it, she was marching towards the door, quickly kicking it open as she glared a hole into Felicia. 

"Fix my mom!" demanded Becky. 

Felicia screamed and jumped into the air before turning around. She was half-dressed and obviously not expecting visitors. She started to shudder and look around. "What do you mean?!" she screamed in reply. 

"I know you're Fantastic Felicia! I know you worked at a county fair a few months ago. You did something to my Mom, and you're going to fix her!" 

"What? I," mumbled Felicia, "I have no idea who you are. I'm not Felicia!" 

"Don't lie to me!" screamed Becky. "I know you are! You made my mom think she’s Dita Disgusta! Now she's going to try and blow up a power plant!" 

"I would never do," started Felicia, only to trail off as she the end of Becky's shout registered. "Powerplant?" 

"Yeah! Turns out my mom has seen an episode of the show, and that is what Dita did. So now she's going to do it! Next time someone whistles, she's going to do something stupid." 

"Oh," blinked Felicia as a look of realization appeared on her face, "She had it coming." 

"What?" growled Becky as she stepped forward and clenched her fists. 

"Calling my show too adult? Please! It was totally fine. Who gets angry at a bit of sexy dancing these days?"

"You are on thin ice,” mumbled Becky. 
 
"Oh, am I now?" smiled Felicia as she reached into her jacket and pulled out a pocket watch, and started to sway it. "Are you sure of that? Are you sure you know what you are thinking, or are you finding yourself drawn to the watch, following the watch as it goes back and forth," cooed Felicia. 

Becky watched the watch swing for a few moments before reaching and slapping Felicia's hand, causing the watch to fly off and hit the wall. Felicia's smug smirk instantly changed to a look of anger. 

"I've never been so insulted!" huffed Becky. 

"Not as suggestible as your Mom," mumbled Felicia as she crossed her arms. 

"And you're going to fix her. Or else," growled Becky. 

"What are you going to do about it?" grinned Felicia. "If you lay a hand on me, I'll call the police. This whole area is recorded!" 

"I," mumbled Becky. She realized Felicia was right. She had blown her chance to politely ask Felicia to help her. And beating up the woman wouldn't help her. But something about Felicia's grin just made Becky so angry. Suddenly an idea formed in Becky's head. 

She reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone, and quickly started to tap on it. "What, calling your friend?" gigged Felicia. "Call a taxi, go home to your rude mother." 

"Nah," replied Becky as she turned her phone screen to face Felicia. "I'm leaving you a bad review." 

"What?" shouted Felicia. 

"Yep, one for each of your stage names. Explaining that you are not funny, overly crude on stage, and you turn up late! And come on, Change Warriors? How old is that show? Can you think of a reference that's been relevant in the last ten years? And sure, you mention Erica Zaie, but you seem to know nothing about her or her music!" 

"Don't you dare!" shouted Felicia as she moved forward to smack the phone out of Becky's hand. However, Becky moved out of the way, causing Felicia to miss. 

"Nope!" chided Becky as she held the phone in the air, making sure Felicia could see the typed-out comment. "One wrong move and I post it!"

"You wouldn't dare!" growled Felicia. 

"Do you want to take that gamble?" replied Becky. "Go on. Push me! See how well it goes!" 

Felicia glared at Becky, obviously debating her options. She started to reach out a few times, only to stop herself before actually doing anything. She pondered for a few seconds before sighing. "What do you want?" 

"Come with me. Fix my Mom." demanded Becky firmly. "That is all I want." 

"But my show," whined Felicia. 

Becky sighed. "How many tickets have you sold?" 

"A few," mumbled Felicia. 

"If it is under 7, I'll buy 8 tickets in cash right now." 

Really?!" gasped Felicia as Becky pulled some notes out of her pocket and held them up in front of Felicia. 

"I don't lie," asserted Becky.

"Deal!" cheered Felicia as she took the money. "I only sold one!" she chuckled as she grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote a half-assed apology note before sticking it to her dressing room door with some masking tape. "Let's go!" 

"Right," agreed Becky, putting her phone into her pocket and following Felicia out of the building. Once they were in Becky's car, Becky started to drive home. It was mostly quiet, but Becky didn't mind. She didn't have much to say to Felicia anyway.