She woke up with a headache the likes of which she had never felt before. Fearfully, she cracked an eye open. She was initially relieved to find that there was no light to make her go, "FUCKING OUCH!" Of course, her next thought was that waking up somewhere where there was darkness was not necessarily a good thing. She tried to move her arm so she could try to find the source of her headache, but the space was too small. Carefully squirming, she found enough space to wiggle her hand up to the back of her head, where careful exploration found a large and painful bump.

"Fuck," she snarled, giving separate emphasis to every letter and biting off the 'k' especially hard. "Wish I knew what was goin' on, though." The last thing she remembered was giving her grudging agreement to Ruth to let her do her hair. And now she was stuffed in a small space with a wicked headache. Apparently a good bit had happened.

The stench that soon met her nose was the clue that told her where she was. She sighed. There were distinct disadvantages to being the shortest player on any team she played on; someone would inevitably think it was cute to put her in a locker. She remembered when Margo and Elena had tried it, and the bruises she had given them for their trouble. But this had happened often enough that by now she knew had to do to escape. Rhythmically, she started to kick the door, getting her entire body into the motion, while screaming at the top of her lungs, "Get me the fuck out of here before I go postal!"

The door opened abruptly, depositing her on the floor of the locker room. She looked up at her savior. "Thanks, Lindsey," she muttered gratefully to the rookie. But she couldn't understand why the Japanese-American girl looked like she was trying to contain a laugh. "What's going on?"

"Oh, no, I'm not going to be the poor sap to tell you. I'm too young to die," Lindsey replied.

She was not amused by the way Lindsey so carefully danced around the subject. "Listen, you little brat, I may be a foot shorter than you, but I can and I will kick your ass back to the California coast or wherever it is that you come from."

Lindsey sighed. "You did not hear this from me, but... look down in about ten seconds."

She was about to ask about the time delay, but the fact that Lindsey had disappeared seemed to provide the answer. So she did the next best thing and looked down. "Why am I wearing a dress?!" she exclaimed furiously.

She heard laughter. Whirling around to face the door, she encountered the smirking faces of most of her teammates. Through her giggles, Ruth suggested, "Look in the mirror, Debbie."

She followed the suggestion. Once she met her image, she gaped. She had been completely madeover and not in a good way. Her hair had been set in little-girl ringlets and tied into pigtails; she turned back briefly to see Lindsey hide a matching ribbon. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to contemplate her new reflection. Along with the pigtails had come a checkered little girl's frock, knee socks, and Mary Janes. Someone with an eye for makeup had made her look sweet and innocent. In short, she was an exact duplicate of the Little Debbie's character.

She turned back to her teammates, her eyes blazing and her fists clenched. "Who suggested this?" she screamed. "Who did this to me? Come on, take it like a woman!"

The Miami Sol looked embarrassed, and some of the younger players started to hide behind their older teammates. Elena awkwardly slipped a baseball bat behind her back as Sandy crumpled up a receipt from a dress shop, Vanessa ditched the shoebox, and Ruth backed away from the curling iron. Debbie only saw the first of these actions, though. Furiously, she walked up to Elena, yanked at the bat, and started to wave it about threateningly.

Ruth picked her up by the collar of the dress. It was at that moment that their coach had the misfortune to walk in. "You know what? Not even gonna ask. I don't wanna know. Everyone be in uniform in twenty minutes, okay?" With that, he turned on his heel and walked out.

Elena disarmed Debbie. The point guard didn't let that faze her; she bared her teeth and growled. Discreetly, Ruth extended her arm slightly.

"Whose idea was this? Come on, I need to know who has to die!" Debbie screeched. As best as they could, various players started to twitch fingers in the direction of their teammates until Ruth finally admitted, "It was kind of a mutual thing, really; we'd all been thinking about it and we just decided to do it. And do you really think you can beat us all up?"

"Do you really want to find out?" Debbie replied grimly.