Behind the counter stand Alice and Sasha; friendly, helpful, prompt, occasionally sarcastic. Filters in hand, fingers at the register, ducking in and out of the dishwasher, they are prepared to serve you a variety of delicious beverages.

But beware: When the night comes, or when the store empties, they become scurrilous rogues. They give each other makeshift tattoos behind the lemons, air guitar with unprecedented ferocity, and sashay about like a pair of trapeze artists.

Come and order our coffee, and marvel at the quality of our work and the seamless nature of our public personae. But all the while, remember that underneath lurks something primal, something savage, something else.

-Sasha, who read Where The Wild Things Are like three times last night.