"Hello. I have a specialist order I'd like to discuss, if you can. Bats, preferably large ones, whole corpses recently dead."

"...Queen's tits, what, you a competitor? Eh. Bat meat's a slow seller anyway. MAVIS!"

"WHAT?!"

"WEIRD CUSTOMER!"

Mavis, apparently, ducks through a dark hanging cloth a moment later and rinses her hands from a small basin before coming up to the front.

"She wants whole bat corpses."

"...Why?" This bewildered question is directed to their customer.

"My grotesque companion here is a thrull. They are made from the recently-dead, via certain arcane methods. They are somewhere between a clever dog and a very stupid person, but this makes them quite useful. I am new to Pan and want to make a new batch here, and I would like them to fly."

Mavis thinks for a moment. "...Well, I done stranger. What'cha offering?"

"What've you got available?"

"Nothing right the heck now, I cut just about as soon as I get the meat. But I can talk to my suppliers."

"Hmm. Couple sovereigns for the first six? Should beat selling it for meat."

"Eh, some people do like bat. If they're the little ones and I happened to have some around that's not a terrible price. Being a rush order does put the pressure on a bit, and what if I find a bigger one? Would you be interested if I get a line on something nice and exotic?"

"No Curators, I'll need a lot more set up" - like a power source - "before I could use anything bigger than a human. Three and a half for six with wingspan at least this wide" - she gestures about a foot and a half - "up to double that if they're larger, say three times that."

"Fucking- Do you think I'm suicidal? Curators, what've you been snorting?"