Erin: (on phone) ...one order of the palak paneer, two orders of the chana masala...just a moment. (to Storyteller) Hey, Storyteller, what did you say you wanted, again?
Storyteller: (in hut, trying to make sense of her scroll shelf) The radish raita and the cucumber salad.
Erin: Gotcha. (back on phone) One cucumber salad with radish raita...right. Yes, and to finish off, ras malai for five...very good. Thanks. (hangs up) Okay, people, dinner will be here in half an hour.
Scooter: That works - Nora and Beige are both running late.
Erin: Why, what's going on?
Scooter: Nora had to help out with something at the bookshop, and Beige called to say that traffic in the Matt Fraggle room was a nightmare.
Storyteller: Tsk...there's probably a flock of Toe-Ticklers blocking one of the tunnels again, I'd wager.
(few minutes later)
Nora: What a night...Mr. Farley brought his pet salamanders to the shop again, and they got loose in the philosophy section. (holds up a tattered butterfly net) I've never seen Mrs. Farley's face turn that shade of purple before.
Beige: (emerging from Fraggle hole) I tell you, that tunnel's been backing up since the World's Oldest Fraggle was a kid. At this rate, they'll have that extension built when Gorgs learn to fly.
Storyteller: You know, that reminds me of an old legend where...
(cut off by doorbell ringing)
Erin: Hold that thought - dinner's here.
(soon, all are settled around the table, tucking into some of the city's best Indian cuisine)