Cats may attend. Dogs may not. This includes show dogs, lap dogs, emotional support dogs, and dogs who are "basically a cat if you think about it." We thought about it. The name of the business is the whole argument. Most cats and dogs do not want to solve a puzzle together, and neither do we.
Read this before you cry in a doorway
The house has rules. The rooms have locks. You have one hour, in theory.
The blackout room uses night-vision goggles. They stay in the building. If you leave with them, you did not escape. You shoplifted, and you will still be bad at the puzzle. They are hard to see out of. That is a feature until the room is under construction, which is now.
You may ask for a clue. Asking is the point. Sitting in the dark to prove a point to a relative is a different hobby, and it does not unlock the door. If you are stuck for more than a proud amount of time, say so. Someone will help, unless that someone is at the bakery, in which case the mouse is moral support only.
Phones are allowed, unfortunately. Please do not spend the hour telling your followers how cute the sign is. The sign cannot open the lock. A previous guest learned this in real time. We are still proud of the sign. It is not a strategy.
Sixty minutes, or until Marcia has to get back to an oven, whichever comes with more authority. We will not actually lock you in past the hour. Being locked in past the hour by your own pride is between you and the door.
The alley is not a room and not a drop-off. Staff use it. A raccoon audits it. If you were told to bring anything back there, you were not told by us. Come to the front door like a person who read the website.
Marcia Blake owns the place. She also owns Pupcakes & Pastries on West Bland. If the phone is answered with "don't be ashamed to drool," you have reached the oven. Hang up and try the lock, or walk over. They are not next door. That is also on purpose.