In the time it takes for the faerie to look over the forms and the cat pictures, Lambert ... is going to step towards the table where they keep the things for customers who don't want fancy drinks and food. Needing something to do with his hands, he fills three mugs with hot water and dumps a green tea packet in each, waiting for it to steep. When it's done, he brings one first over to John -- he considers talking to him, but with the monster around that feels weird -- and another over to the table, setting it down along with some of the individually-wrapped biscotti bars he grabbed from the cookie jar.

"Local specialty," he says, by way of explanation, and a shrug. "Since it doesn't sound like you've been here before." The bird only gets a single plain almond one because he said no chocolate. Ha ha.

After that, he'll sip at his mug idly, back against the counter. When they announce their choice, he nods, setting the drink down and heading for the back again. "Give me a minute." His scissors remain in his apron pocket, not far from his reach, but it feels shitty turning his back to the room anyway. He aims to quickly slip into the back room and close the door again behind him, but whether he's able to or not without incident, well, that depends.