Graham was having a strange day. Ordinarily he was fairly flexible about what he'd do for a client - as long as it wouldn't harm the animals, he tried to go above and beyond. This, however, was a first; he'd never once been asked to go out and purchase carpeting on the wardrobe department's dime. Carpeting. Really. But he had the largest truck and the most space, so he'd been elected.
(Volunteered, really. They were paying for three trainers on what was essentially a two-man job, and Graham felt a little guilty over what he was charging them.)
The shop was meant to be in the same storefront as the diner, but Graham felt his good deed deserved pie first. He took the first empty seat - coincidentally, close enough to bump elbows with Emma - and slapped down a truly hideous fabric swatch.
Right. He could breathe. Breathe, and decide what to do if the rug store didn't have anything in camouflage-green.
One of the waitresses working the counter wandered up with a menu. "What is that?" She asked.
"Swamp monster," Graham answered, with absolutely no hesitation. "I believe. Or it will be, once it's been sewn into a suit."