That's right. Just me, Bustopher Jones, and any visitors I can persuade to come keep me company and make the place feel a little less...vast.

[She accepts it without hesitation, glancing at the label and offering a smile and a nod of approval.]

Come on inside. I put the boxes in the kitchen, and that'll give me the chance to get this open and find a few glasses.

[And she will lead the way through this vast estate of a place with her cat trotting helpfully along behind, and it is legitimately stupid how utterly massive it is with each and every room they pass through on the way to the kitchen.]