Fly By Night, Tuesday

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Jack warily pokes his head out of the shop. No sign of the perky Russian. He was beginning to live in terror of her. Especially since she had been in an absolutely foul mood for the last few days. He opens up the shop and, in the spirit of the holidays, affixes a Peanuts-esque sign reading 'Psychiatric Help 5c' and 'The doctor is REAL IN' to the front. He disappears into the Back and emerges with a single pine branch in a wooden stand, which sits forlornly in front of the store.

Fly By Night is open.

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Jack jerks awake from where he was most definitely not snoozing over his newspaper, blinks once at the hue of his visitor, and proceeds swiftly onwards. "Good afternoon, my good madam, and welcome to my humble shop. What can I do for you today?"

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"Sounds like a great idea," Jack beams. "Sign me up. Haven't had met many folks in town myself yet."