Midnight, at the Great Museum of Cookie City. A subtle clink was heard before the sound of a lock falling to the floor echoed. Sachertorte Cookie entered as if she had just arrived at a ceremony, the rest of the Apricot Jam Syndicate following behind.

"Clemens, my dear," she whispered to the living parasol clutched in her hand. "Such a delightful challenge this place presents, wouldn't you agree?"