When I saw the seals pulling up outside, I ran upstairs and yelled, "Seals! With machine guns!" Someone else said, "Did you say *seals* with machine guns, or...?" Yes, I cried back! It's the seals!
Everyone scattered in panic. We arrayed ourselves in immobile rows on shelves, pretending we were dolls. The seals came in and negotiated with our leaders. Apparently we were late making a tribute of munitions, which is why they'd stopped by. We came to some successful agreement and the seals heaved themselves back outdoors and onto their jeeps and motorcycles, those ones with little sidecars, and drove away.
My alternate lives are exciting.