A spritely impresario stood at the threshold wearing an old-timey hat and tasteful pinstriped suit with a long buttoned jacket.

"Shh, younglings. Adults have the talking stick." The schoolmarm went on and on in unbridled delight about how even though she was only a twenty-four hour flu away from that little black dress, she had enjoyed their heavenly dessert the night before and how the town needed a supremely better snack alternative than that mediocre other brand... or that Kirkland stuff.

Their youthful host's toothy unnatural smile began to wane as he grew increasingly impatient. "Well, we can all use a cheat day once in a while, right? Nice shoes, bossy-boots. Interesting fact -- Butchers in ancient Egypt wore high heels to keep blood away from their feet," the incarnation of exuberance interrupted by tipping the felt derby on his head motioning for the group to enter the veritable foodie paradise. "Be sure to stay on the marked path at all times and never touch the actors."