As adventurers searched for treasure and fended off goblins underground, some exciting events also occurred back at the Shoulder Dragon Cafe.

The head chef left for adventure, and the sous chef, ever loyal, followed them.

"Who will cook the food?" a treasure hunter turned server and shoulder dragon carer wondered. "I'd help, but there are so many shoulder dragons who need neck scritches, and I only have two hands."

"I'm really busy raiding the dragons' nests to be sure they didn't pilfer anyone's ID papers. We don't want a repeat of that incident with the Minister of the Interior," another retired treasure hunter said.

"What if we have the customers cook the food themselves?" the hostess suggested. "Hotpot is popular, and we accidentally bought way too many tiny pots. There are enough for every table and for the shoulder dragons to keep one each for their hoards."

"But we don't have any tiny stoves to go with them," the hoard tidier said. He would know. He went through every nook and cranny of the place several times a day to be sure the dragons didn't make off with anything too important.

"Don't we?" the server asked, gazing at all the shoulder dragons flitting about and remembering how easy it was for throat scritches to turn into flames.

The hoard tidier sighed. "I'll start preparing more waivers."

"And I'll start training them to do it on purpose!" the server said.

# # #

Despite the danger, dragon-fueled hotpot was a major hit.

"Well," the hostess said, watching the customers come close to charring their fingers again and again, "it'll be good to give the customers variety again."