It is 1993, Alastor stubbled out of the grocery store, holding about 5 bags worth of food and ingredients, and another being held with his teeth, walking with a rush.

It was clear that he would drop everything if he didn't be careful enough, every once in a while having something fall from a bag and having to pick it up as carefully as he could.

He still had a smile, knowing that his plan would be great. His mother was out of town for a few days and he wanted her to come back to a feast.