[As opposed to his usual, chipper self, Joe sounds a little on the angry side today. A pup had it's collar removed and was killed as a result, leaving in it's wake a mass of injured and tainted guests. Sycora's busy fixing people up, Dos is trying to clean up the mess and Nieta is sad.

Good job, Keep. You've upset Joe's favorite girl.]

Have any of you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, we're not tryin' to fock you over? That we might be tellin' ye a scrap of truth?

[He makes a frustrated sound. Joe's pretty much glaring at the journal.]

The next time the staff ask you not to fockin' do somethin'... here's an idea. Are y'listenin'? Don't fockin' do it. Spare the lot of us some unnecessary chaos.

[And now that he's had his little grumble for all to hear, Joe's just going to shut that journal and get back to his work. He might not be happy, but there's always work to be done.]

[The video starts with Joe grinning at his journal, evidently amused by something or other. He glances up to the ceiling above him and chuckles. To someone, or something off screen and very much not on the ground, Joe speaks.]

Lad, I ain't got no one around to do what yer askin' with.

[Shaking his head, he looks back to the journal.]

Right. Just to let the lot of ye know, we've got a spider livin' in the keep that's a bit bigger than the usual bug. He's harmless unless y'piss him off. Fer the most part, he's like a 5 year old.

[He shifts the journal enough for the video feed to pick up a football sized spider zipping across the wall and down the hall. The spider, Patty, appears to be carrying a plant of some kind.]

The little bastards flogged the mistletoe from the Great Hall. He's runnin' around the place stickin' it up above doorways an' hoverin' around the rooftops lookin' fer people.

Since a lot of ye ain't from Earth, I dunno how many'll know what mistletoe is. It's a bit of a tradition back home. Mistletoe is a kind of plant. If you an' another end up standin' underneath it, you gotta kiss. I mean, y'don't gotta, but it's tradition to just go fer it.

[Joe grins, not even bothering to hide his amusement.]

Kiss whoever is nearest and the spider'll leave you alone. Otherwise, just tell him to go bug someone else. Y'can always try to chase him off I guess, but I can't see him takin' too well to that.

Base point, if the plant is over yer head, grab the nearest person and slap a kiss on 'em, aye? Have fun.

[That said, the video cuts out.]

[From the vegetable patch outside of Joe's kitchen, one might hear a stream of angry curses accompanied by the cawing of crows and the occasional dull thud of a large blunt object. A closer inspection would find Joe himself brandishing a shovel and fighting off a swarm of birds from his garden. On a spit over a fire is a sharksheep, the proposed dinner for the Keep now being picked at by birds.

When the video feed kicks in, it's purely by accident, the cook's journal tossed to the side and left ignored by the otherwise distracted Irishman. For the most part what is seen is a shot of the sky with the odd crow or glimpse of Joe as he fights his epic battle. His words however, broadcast loud and clear and translate to text as he speaks.]

Fockin' flying rats! Get the fock outta my garden! Scram! That sharksheep ain't fer you! I don't have time fer this shite!

[He swings the shovel again and... misses his target.]

Stay still so I can hit ya, y'stupid fockin' bird!

[The sound of crows swarming is heard, and then Joe sighs and throws the shovel down.]

Fine. Eat the fockin' lot. It's not like that thing didn't take forever to catch.

[Footsteps, and then a rather defeated Joe appears.]

...Well shite, guess you lot heard that then. In case you were wonderin', we've got a bit of a crow problem. Little bastards're eatin' the place out. If this keeps up, we're gonna be outta veg in no time. Need to keep 'em outta this area at least.

[He pauses.]

Might be time to... Eh, nevermind.

[He cuts the feed and goes back to glaring angrily at the birds. Feel free to stumble in at any time!]

[Joe hasn't been seen or heard from for a while now. In fact, he probably won't be seen or heard from for a while longer yet. However, the Irishman breaks his silence to utter a single word.]

Sean..?

[His voice is rough, emotion catching in his throat. He's been grinning since Nieta told him she'd talked to his brother, but now anxiousness and nerves turn his smile into an eager smirk.]

[The feed kicks in to the sound of a man clearing his throat. He seems a little unsure of what he's about to say.]

Hullo, hullo. Welcome newcomers.

[Man, what a classy intro that was. So smooth, Joseph!]

For those of y'that I haven't met, my name is Joe. I man the kitchen here and I'm the one that put together the shit-awful feast you had on your first night here.

M'sorry fer that. At the time I was short staffed, unprepared and tired as fock. The good news, is that I've caught up on my beauty sleep and whatever I make from here on in sure as hell won't suck quite so bad.

Y'can find me in the kitchens more often than not, otherwise, try the bar or out by the lake. If any of you have any cookin' experience or want to help out, I'd more than welcome it. The more help I get, the better yer food is gonna be.

[Silence falls while Joe runs over what he's just said.]

Right. I think that's about it. Come say hello or somethin'.

[Fin.]