Enter the Rez under construction.

Before you can process what happened or even identify the culprit, a hand yanks you, and Agent Miller stands in front. You see yourself as a strong, hefty man but the ease with which the agent pulled you aside makes you feel like some damsel in distress. Peeking to the side of his wide shoulders you watch as a tall, androgynous man wrapped in expensive silk throws another glass, barely missing the poor man carrying the luggage.

"I said Baccarat glasses you halfwit! Not Viski! I specifically informed your boss of the precise description of Baccarat. Do you see any ridges at the top here? No. Any fine, crystal sheen finish? No! Then they aren't Baccarat are they?!" For such a slender man, he shouted with the booming bravado of a ten-man choir. In the corner, you spot Benji sipping whisky on a barstool, completely indifferent to the wild spectacle being displayed. Meanwhile, Eli frantically maneuvers around the inn trying to diffuse the situation.

"Madame Fae, we won't need glassware until the grand opening. I'm sure we can make do in the meantime. How about this, I will go to the glassmaker myself and make sure they are delivered properly?" The Madame then turns to Eli with a dramatic flair, feigning weakness and utter distress.

"Oh, Eli. It's just the incompetence of these people I hire. What good is money if it can't grant us the things we need when we need them?"

Eli nods profusely as he takes the Madame to a cushioned seat. Meanwhile, Mitch eyes Benji, begging for an explanation. But Mitch in his usually calm expression raises one of the Viski glasses in a mock toast. At least he seems his usual self, you think, despite the chaos. Benji then raises his brow upon seeing Agent Miller and then you who's being smothered by said agent. Seeing Miller wasn't letting up you lightly nudge him to the side. He slowly responds and lets up but immediately tenses up again as the Madame howls in his mental breakdown. Even Eli seems exhausted with the day's affair but a spark lights in his eyes as he suggests to the Madame,

"How about we look at the clothes, Madame? The new outfits came in with the glass shipment. I made sure they came in precisely to your description, no corners cut." The Madame's wailing stopped almost immediately as he straightened up in his stool. He waves away the worker carrying the crate of glassware and motion for another. A nervous-looking man rolls in a long rack of polybagged fabric. You brace yourself for another banshee scream as those couldn't possibly be finished garments. But the Madame screams not from horror but excitement. Clapping his ringed fingers together he embraces Eli on a job well done. Perplexed, you lean over Miller's shoulder to find that they were complete outfits, just not completely modest. Half shortened tops, thongs, and jockstraps with shine and crystal embellishments. Your eyes widen further as you spot one in particular with dangling chains and spikes.

He didn't expect people to wear these, did they?

"Where's that husky bartender, Eli? We should try on his first since he's the only staff here."

Benji spits out his drink, mid-sip, and gets up to leave. However, Eli moves with surprising speed as he grabs Benji before he can make his escape. But despite his adept agility, Eli can't budge the red-faced bartender. Exacerbated and ****, Eli pleads with Benji, reminding him of to promise they made the night before. "You said you will do exactly as I say in regards to the renovation. Benji, please be reasonable."

"Reasonable? You can't expect me to wear anything like that while serving drinks."

"It'll be fine, you have a great body for your age. And everything has to be on theme including you."

The Madame seems disinterested in the scuffle as his entire focus is on choosing the right outfit for Benji. He takes one out with matching bunny ears and a tail but shakes his head in disappointment as he holds it up against Benji. "No, no... this won't do. Too youthful. Need something that accentuates your torso a bit more...hmmm...Oh, how about this one?"

"This is gonna take a while", you think. As if reading your mind Mitch taps you on the shoulder and motions for you and the stiff agent to follow him to the bar. "Come on, I can whip us up something. Might as well have a drink while they handle things. And you, Miller. I want to know what kind of whisky man you are. I can always tell a man's character by the whisky they drink."

"I told you, I don't drink."

The three of you head over to the opposite end of the inn as Mitch's idle talk drowns out Benji's rising protest.