Sage steps back into the room at the whiff of Sandra's prawns mojo en ajo. "Roll it back behind the bar, there's a large walk in fridge behind it."

Despite her intent to return to her gainful employment the evening before, she spent several hours throwing out old moldy jars of olives, dessicated drink mixes in bottles without tops, and throwing old plastic and cardboard from under the bar behind the tavern in the large blue recycle bins. She heard something move in the cardboard bin and noticed someone was sleeping.

The bar is sparkling and polished now with a fresh coat of bees wax, the floor behind it is no longer sticky, and it's ready for cooks to come along and start the big meat. Auroch? Squid? Bracheosaurus?