Penta was the sixth of eight children (there had been a factory error with #3/4, but their parents loved them all very much( and it had left him with a low tolerance for nonsense. When Episilon came up the street he was standing outside with his arms folded, a deeper scowl than usual across his large face.

Inside the shop the lone other employee was working frantically, stirring three large bowls at once before rushing out to serve an incoming couple.