The Norwegian/Irish woman thanks Yorkshire Tony for the offer of lutefisk, declining, but adds "What I really want to eat is some lefse. Do you think that guy cooking could whip some up after they finish with the duck?"

The commotion surrounding the duck grows louder with every handful of bread shoved into the bird. Sage shouts over the bar at MMario to ask if he has any boiled potatoes and can he make lefse? He seems distracted, pulling small frozen game hens from an institutional freezer behind the bar and tucking them into his pockets and under his armpits in an attempt to thaw them fast. The shouting continues, amid many shrieks of indignation at the treatment of the duck.

"Well fuck a duck," Sage mutters to herself, and looks around for a way to get the cook's attention. A tipsy cat seated at the edge of the beautiful tree winks. Winks! Looking more closely at the animal, Sage sees that the cat is seated on the end of a long slim plank lying across the floor. Picking up one end and gently sliding the inebriated cat to the floor under the tree, she holds the board aloft and stretches it out to prod MMario in the shoulder. One of his game hens has escaped the pouch of his tunic and suddenly slipped to the floor, smashing a couple of toes as it bounces off of his left foot. The board reaches his shoulder just as he bends to retrieve the little bird, and receives a resounding "thunk!" on the head as he rises.

Turning his sweaty gaze on the duo standing on the other side of the noisy bar, MMario finally understands that these two would like him to add potetlefse to his list of stuff to cook.

"Okay, but put the *%&$##ing board down!" he hollers back. His voice is all but lost as the crowd roars. A wag approaches from behind the bar with an onion and hands it to Cluin.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," advises the overworked cook, but too late. Cluin cuts into the onion, releasing the eye-smarting scent, which promptly revives the duck, who with one mighty push blasts out the biggest wettest greenest wad of guano anyone in this room has ever seen emerge from one small bird.

The cappucine monkey steps up to the duck, wraps his spindly arm around it's non-shoulders, and suggests they adjourn to the top of the tree.