"You saw it, huh? Well, at the time she sported it, we were a bit too worried about goblins and shit to knock her fashion sense. When ya got mailboxes eatin' guys, all bets are off."

With a wave, he beckons her to follow him, as he's caught scent of a British pub half a block down the street, off the beaten path of the bustle.

"First one's on me," he says as if that means anything here, as they walk in. It's not as crowded as one might think, thankfully, as many extras are drawn outside to the big festiveness.