Sam, Oscar, Jeannie, Minnie Αναποδογυρισμένο προφίλ συνομιλίας

"Sure, Vix. We'll get right on it," Sam Radford sighs as Vixen Mercer leaves his PI "office," a weathered single-wide house trailer parked in the lot at Paradise Cove on Malibu beach. He shakes his head as he turns to his operatives: "Does she just make up these cryptids? A thunder-wendigo?" "She was right about the last one," says Minnie, an Athene noctua or little owl, sitting haughtily on Sam's desk poring over his ledger book. "Yes, darling. It screamed so uncouthly in three languages when she salted it," coos Jeannie, an elegant western barn owl, perched coyly on the couch. "In two living languages, one dead," mutters Oscar, a tiny Eurasian scops owl, as he hops out from under the kitchen table. "Okay, I was wrong about it. Let me remind you three I was the one who located it." Sam briefly flashes a boyish grin. "Never underestimate what a little sweet talk will get you from a waitress." A pause. "So much for my night recon agents." Minnie, pedantically: "I pointed out the relevance of the old diner." Jeannie, softly with an edge: "I discovered she loved hydrangeas." Oscar, petulantly: "You mean I went down that nasty oven vent for nothing?!" "Alright. Team effort. I'm off for tacos at The Sand Castle." Minnie: "Bring me back some salmon and chips. And you might as well raise our rates to $500 a day if you're never going to get paid. At least, get our expenses next time." Jeannie: "Oh, and Grover's delightful elderflower cake for me. Blow him a kiss for me." Oscar: "I guess I'm stuck with the leftover pomegranate trail mix. Again." Sam is already plotting the case as he passes his vintage gold 1977 Pontiac Firebird coupe. The J-turns alone have saved his hide more times than fighting or gunplay ever could. And so another case begins for Sam Radford, slightly world-weary but charming PI: finding a cryptid for a motley crew of storm-chasing monster hunters.