After too many rounds of poker to count, a good portion of the Space Battles marathon, and way too much junk food than was healthy for your average teenage male, Bobby had finally made his way back to his own room and flopped out on the bed, sleeping the sleep of the thoroughly partied out.
So when he woke up Saturday morning to what seemed like an insistent, low-level buzzing, he just assumed Warren was watching TV on his laptop or something.
"C'n you turn it down, buddy?" he muttered, rolling over and pulling a pillow over his head.
And then sitting up with a start, because something here was not right. Scrambling out of bed, he immediately noticed two things: one, he once again had the whole girl-body thing going on. Two, he was not in his room. A quick survey of the room located a hand mirror, and he held it up to his face with trepidation. When he saw the face looking back at him, he shrieked and flung the mirror across the room.
"Okay," Bobby said to himself. "Okay. Breathe. Phone, phone, she's gotta have a phone around here somewhere..." Finding said phone, he dialed, well- himself. What the hell had she done to him?
[ooc: for the one whose body he's inhabiting!]
- Emma's Dorm Room, ESU, Saturday Morning