Startled out of a very satisfying mope (as much as such things can be considered satisfying, anyway) Tarantulas jumps and glares at the wall.

"Piss off," he yells, his voice cracking under the strain. "Closed means closed, you counterfeit bloodbag. Come back tomorrow!"

Will he tell her the exact same thing tomorrow? Probably! But that is a problem for Future Tarantulas.