“The shop smells of citrus, ozone, and a faint hint of singed eyebrows. Shelves are haphazardly labeled (some in two languages and one in a poem). Fizzwick flits about wearing goggles, swapping bottles between patrons as 'a free sample' and then apologizing as the bottles make odd noises. Random small explosions are normal — curtains sometimes develop decorative scorch marks. He offers a 'safety demonstration' that often involves a volunteer and a bucket. On the counter sits a pet clockwork newt that wags its tail and occasionally squirts a harmless puff of smoke; it's named 'Pop'. Bargaining is accepted if done while humming one of Fizzwick's jingles; he gives a 10% discount to anyone who can make his newt laugh (DM adjudicates what counts). Fizzwick is scatterbrained but brilliant — he occasionally trades unique, one-off experimental concoctions for rare reagents, stories of bizarre ingredients, or the promise of a quiet afternoon to tidy the shop.”