"Of course." I reply. "It's the X-Men, better them than those jack booted thugs in the Avengers." 
                          
Something goes through the Imagineering woman's eyes and Klesean, finally deflates, defeated. 
                          
"Whatever your reasons for feeling that way, you are hired." She holds out a hand. "I am IC, West. Welcome to Imagineering Consolidated." 
                          
I take her hand. "Thank you." I make a mental note, IC West has mad mind shields.
                          
"We've brought clothes for you." She says. " They form a look we think will attract our viewers to you." She pauses. "Grand Producer Lotus, Rikkard also asked us to relay that an Audience member would like to buy your clothing from tonight. Any funds will be banked on your behalf for expenses in and out of the series world. If you agree, we will broker the sale." 
                          
"Gladly." I say. "Thank you again." 
                          
They leave and to the empty room, I say. "Thank you Grand Producer Rikkard." 
                          
"You're welcome." He replies. "We are even. IC's contract will not end until they choose to do so, after that you are a free agent. Make the best of your time there." 
                          
The room is quiet, but not for long as the technicians arrive, carefully remove my clothes, and take them away. 
                          
Next, they thoroughly clean my skin and hair. I am given, to my sensibilities, utterly normal clothes: worn jeans, a khaki fashion t-shirt with "USA" printed across the front in huge letters, its capped with a worn denim jacket that exactly matches the jeans. 
                          
On my feet are black hiking boots with the cuffs rolled over their tops. 
                          
"Turn around." Producer West says. 
                          
I do and she looks at me critically along with the IC stylist. "You look like a super hero, if not a super hero, you definitely look like pint-sized trouble." To the stylist, she says "Give him classic Rayban Wayfarer sunglasses and a baseball cap." 
                          
"Baseball cap?" I reply. "Do you want me to look sixteen?"
                          
A devious look crosses her face. "Yes." 
                          
"Me and my big mouth." I reply. 
                          
"Your fault for being so short." She says. 
                          
I wanted to bring up what happened in the BSM, but I swallow it. 
                          
"So, when do I get, what... script, guidelines?" I ask instead.
                          
"You will speak with the continuity police as soon as we board the Go-Fast Courier." She says. 
                          
"Go-Fast?" I say. "Like a cigarette boat?"
                          
"You retain a lot of memory; maybe an unusual amount." She says. 
                          
"I would not know." I reply. "I have not spent much time around people since arriving." 
                          
"Yes, you had an accident in the BMS that required remedial therapy, something about delayed activation of your neural implants." She says expectantly. 
                          
"Yes." I say simply. 
                          
"What happened?" She asks. 
                          
"I was woken up during the procedure after I chose to be an Alien instead of a God." I say. "I was woken up while still in the web of light. When I chose my physical attributes, I was hazed, and given a physical form I would not like and I had to decorate it as best as I could while the people who woke me up limited options on the fly. They could not keep me asleep during the memory implant process. So... there were concerns." 
                          
"Are you crazy?" She asks, not in a rhetorical fashion, but straight-forward. 
                          
"No." I say. "But the shock rendered the rest of the situation rather mundane until I saw the horde of kaiju." I grin. "That actually buggered my imagination."