~Act fast. Act *now.*~
Screw it if the police believed them or not. A word in was a word in. If something happened -- and god they hoped nothing happened -- they'd know where to start.
Plan of action. Call the police, maybe secure the ball pit, deal with the rabbit. The allegedly very large mechanical rabbit. Something any small, flimsy college-dodging 22-year-old was perfectly equipped to deal with.
So with their plan vaguely laid out, Loaz could finally push themself back up. ~Just find the phone, Loaz. Find the phone.~ It was tough to walk away from the door, but there was nothing more they could do by leaning on it.
God when their boss finds out about this...
NO. Phone. Loaz marched over to the front desk. Past the arcade door; they eyed it warily. They yanked the phone from its holder, dialing the number. The phone rang, and as it did Loz's eyes flitted between doors. Like at any moment something would come barging through them. Then again, in their position, cornered up against a desk, was that not a very reasonable anxiety?