The sun shines high as you work the front counter, serving up seafood to the sunbaked citizens of Los Angeles. You stand behind the counter, watching the ice glisten in water glasses as soft music plays in the background. A few customers are enjoying their meals, exchanging smiles and laughter. The most exciting thing so far has been someone giving a thumbs-up for the perfectly cooked lobster.

Suddenly, the building shakes.

CRASH! The entranceway and surrounding walls crumple around the berth of a massive whale plowing right through them, sprawled across some kind of enormous motorized platform!

Before anyone can react—BOOM! A second whale smashes through the wall beside it! The building has seen better days. The few customers who haven't fled out the back entrance are pressed against the far wall, cocktail sauce dripping from their shocked faces.

The first whale's head nearly scrapes the ceiling as it lets out a thunderous bellow that rattles the windows.

Your coworker Nancy, who's been here a few months now, lets out a squeak and drops her notepad, but promptly retrieves it and asks, "What—what can we do for you?"

The question is answered by one whale producing a slightly damp promotional flyer on the tip of its massive tongue for the Twenty-Seven Salmon Challenge. The whales' massive eyes fix on you both with unmistakable hunger. Two simultaneous earth-shaking bellows send the light fixtures swinging.

Nancy glances over to gauge your response.