Trixie couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, but this is about reality.” She walked around him and began to drag him by the back of the neck of his shirt. She pulled him into the hallway. “There are a few dressing rooms I believe.” She saw one with a bright, glittering star on the door. “This looks perfect.” She forced him into the room, entered it herself, and closed the door behind her.
“So, do I have to worry about you?”
Kuzco shouted in protest as she began to drag him. Bloody hell, he needed to start working out. He tripped over when she forced him into the room, immediately turning around to bang his fists on the closed door. “I have friends, you know! They’ll come looking for me! I’LL TELL THE POLICE!”
Ursula sat in front of the mirror, adjusting her make-up. She was a vain, distasteful woman, and her lipstick looked like blood. She turned to see who had entered and spoke in a silky, hypnotic voice, “Trixie, dear, did you start without me.” She tutted at the pair as she stood, then snapped her fingers. For a moment nothing happened then Ursula remembered and snapped with the other hand. The mirror shattered into sparkling dust and Kuzco was thrown into the chair Ursula had recently occupied. Kuzco was helpless as his own overabundance of feather boas flew from all directions to lash him to the chair. The witch turned to Trixie, now about those computers? Ignore him, he’ll be no trouble…” She snapped her fingers again and a long thin sliver of glass rose to hover millimeters from Kuzco’s exposed neck “Now will you, Kuz-Kuz?”