The post office, much like the rest of the island, was very very quiet.

In fact there was a tumbleweed blowing right through the lobby.

K glared at the tumbleweed. "Knock it off," he growled. "Get back to work."

There was then a flicker as the postal worker's... imagey thing recalibrated to a humanoid form and went back to work.

After sticking its tongue out at K when his back was turned.

The post office is open.

There is a distinct lack of tumbleweeds.

There are no Rugrats stamps.