A closed sign was placed in the corner of a ground-floor window, yet there was still movement inside the building. A tan male, or stallion as they preferred, with darker brown hair and a tail was trotting from the kitchen to the main counter. This, Neil presumed, was Joe. And Joe was a pony that broke the laws of physics every time he came out of the back. Trays laden with baked goods, primarily donuts, would float alongside the stallion in a forest-green aura. The very same aura emanated from his horn.