These cafes, clearly fronts for “kitty crack” (catnip), are perpetually h(a)unted by the Smee in search of his proverbial dragon, his Uncle Charlie, his fix.
Upon a routine (read “next-to-never”) cleaning of the Smee’s food delivery system, the aforementioned Smee jumped up onto his food’s shelf.
“Mister, he wants to plumb the mysterious recesses of his food-horde, his cache, his walk-in pantry.”
“Mister, The Smee is doing inventory.”
“He’s helping us look for the kitty crack!”