I think I might be concussed?

[Lucy is in the kitchen mixing up something. She's got a smudge of orange across her cheek and she's wearing an apron. There's some poppy music on in the background. She swipes a finger through the batter in the bowl she's working with and sticks it in her mouth then looks up to the device, gives it a bit of an 'oops, caught red handed' look, takes her finger out of her mouth and smiles.]

Okay, so Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I don't know what sort of traditions everyone has and I know not all of us are from the United States but if you ask me, Thanksgiving is about getting together with your friends and your family and eating. A lot. That means I'm busy cooking. A lot.

If I know you, I've talked to you or you're all alone tomorrow and don't want to be, you're invited to my place for Thanksgiving. I promise there will be a lot of food. I'm even making vegetables without chicken broth, Stephen.

[The video pans around The Masters Lucy's flat. There's a slow pan of kitchen, living room, the stair well and even the fire pole before the camera turns, giving a quick glimpse of the Newfoundland dog lying on the floor and the cat on the back of the couch. The video settles on Lucy's face.]

So I'm back home and everything survived, including me. It's nice to have the City back to whatever passes for normal here.

Octavian and Derek, uber thanks for being my roman in shining armor and pretty boy with a gun. I'm going to cook. I'll bring some food over. Sweet potato pie, fried chicken and cheese grits for everyone.

[Private to Chris]

Hey, if you got alcohol poisoning and died at the police station I'm going to be pissed.