The cake, sadly, is a lie. Instead of cake there is a man Dave will probably take for a mortal enemy leaning casually in the midst of the chaos of the shop, looking utterly blank and bewildered. He's a little heavier than Dave might remember, and his fingers are covered in rings the same way Balthazar's always are, but these are subtle things.

He pauses for a beat, recovering, then sticks one finger in his ear and waggles it around. Setting the statue delicately on the counter, he turns to Balthazar with a raised eyebrow and says in that familiar, dry acerbic tone, "Perhaps you should move somewhere more upscale. This can hardly be the quality of clientele you're looking for."