Something fun and magical is going down on the boat again, and Helen is all over it. Because lounging about all day getting burned in the sun gets pretty boring after a while, and she needs to find something to fill her time before the door lets her return back home again.

So, there is a tiny teenage Angel of Death skulking around, half-transfixed by the singing, half-cringing when the performer hits a bum note. She sidles up to the bar and gives a curious look to the green-skinned man in a pretty fabulous get up. She's missed his intro, but she suspects he might have something to do with this place - she's never seen him around before.

"Ummm... this place doesn't have a, like... 'no minors' rule, right?"

Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.