Had Remy actually been hired to work a shift at the antique shop? Absolutely not.

Was he showing up, slipping past any security Harley had set up, and seating himself casually behind the sales desk anyway?

He sure was.

What could he say? The island -- and its attendant freedom from the pressures of being visibly a mutant in his own world -- had him feeling puckish.

He wasn't quite brazen enough to post a sign about any random sales, but that was mostly because he couldn't decide which random items to put on sale yet. He did put on some music though. Something cheerful and welcoming. And played forward, thank you.

[shop busted into with permission. Open!]