[Puke]

an irate Barry bursts through the door of the cantina, outfitted with his red valet jacket and innumerable teeth. with a roar, he inquires as to exactly where puke parked, and why he didnt tip the staff.

desperatly backpeddaling, puke explains that he was shipped in as custard by a dimension-hopping transport, and that he has no ship as he was recently regergitated by a dis-satisfied custard-ingesting Mac.

Barry has none of it though, and makes as if to be using the teeth next. To puke's dismay, he has no pockets nor credits, and not even a tab in this incarnation of the Bar and Grill! "Defend me, my minions!" orders puke to his Gherkin army.

But to puke's chargin, he has no gherkins in this incarnation. Barry afixes a napkin to the collar of his valet jacket, and begins closing in with a fork and knife...