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You just got fired from your third job in two years. Reaching your old Volvo carrying all your stuff in pouring down rain, you have a flat tire. You change the tire and head home running out of gas just as you pull into your driveway. Exiting your car, you see your fiancÚ loading her belongings into her car. She says your relationship is over. Inside the house, you find the only thing left in the fridge is two six packs of beer. You drown yourself in beer and delivery pizza as the TV announces a raging storm is approaching. The storm hits, but you're passed out. You wake up, horribly hung-over, face down on... grass? Opening bloodshot eyes you find you're staring at two pair of tiny pointy-toed boots. Where in the blue blazes are you? Toto, it doesn't look like we're in Seattle anymore.
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