[The video that turns on sweeps around the produce section first, Creedy's unmistakeable accent, heavy with the Scottish tones he'd refused to lose, starts off with a whistle that trails into a bloody hell. The camera keeps moving, past the fruits and vegetables to the meats. When it ends he turns it back around to face himself, shakes his head a moment and just stares.]

I've never seen so much bloody food. Where d'they get it all? 

Quinn. Get o'er here quick as you can.

[He's got a cart full of can goods and as much produce, fruit and meat as he could buy with his stipend and the cart gets a brief go with the camera before he's grinning again and giving a wink.]

Who wants to join in on a right brilliant feast?  Tomorrow, I think. Never know how long all this'll last. I know the lot of you can't all turn down good food and me special black lable.

[He gives another pause and looks deadly serious at the camera for a moment.]

Quinn. They 'ave honest to real bogroll and tissue here. You have to see this place for yourself, mate.