[The inside is equally as vibrant as its advertisement, the technicolor neon lights a stark contrast to the dreary grey streets of London just outside. A chipper tune blares from an oversized music box off to one side, though that doesn't seem to be stopping the young woman at the counter opposite from dozing away, her head cradled by a six fingered hand.

Zelda finally lets go of Gina's hand in order to rush up to the counter, bouncing on her toes both in excitement and to see over it comfortably.]

Excuse me! [She calls to the sleeping alley worker.

... No response.]

Um... excuse me? Can you hear me? We'd like to play a few rounds of bowling, please. ... Hello?

[Still nothing. Perhaps there are some limits to how much mirror world constructs can do, but that doesn't stop Zelda from deflating, concerned confusion wrinkling her brow as she looks back to Gina.]

... I don't think she can hear me.