[Growltigger]

BOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!

The green and pleasant land surrounding the cantina is bLasted to atoms by the missiles.....

The conflagration Lasts for hours, a firestorm sweeps its away across the cantina sterlising it to such an extent that even the health and safety inspectors would not find fault (well, maybe the radiation and the ash may cause some concern for the food licence).

The fires subside, all is quiet.

The ghostly shades of Gryphin and Growltigga materialise in the wreckage. A popping sound can be heard as Growltigga pulls out an ethereal bottle of Vive Cliquot Ponsardin from a mystic ice bucket. A ghostly tray of canapes appears in his hand.

"Yup, done it again, second time around and the universe is ours (again). What d'ya reckon Gryph old boy, shall we retire from the restaurant and leisure business or do we fancy third time lucky?, I mean, the only survivors from this one is Barry and those reserve FBW's I hid in the Tigg-Scoff bunker"...

Gryphin leans close and whispers in his ear