Rex Knoll was a thirty-something bartender who was getting ready to open his bar for the night. He was the owner of the Regal King's bar downtown, though, despite its name, it was only your average run-of-the-mill bar with some cheap regal decorations. Sure he wanted the bar to be a bit more popular at this point in his career, but he was satisfied enough with his modest success.
This night, Rex was struggling even more than usual with carrying some crates full of the alcohol and other products into his establishment. Geeze, his back was going to feel that in the morning. Either these crates were heavier than usual, or he was weaker than usual. He really needed to hire someone to do this for him, or at the very least, hit the gym. If only owning a bar only required mixing drinks and talking to customers, but alas, things don't work that way.
Unbeknownst to Rex, however, some of his wares have been tainted by the growth drug. If anyone ordered a regular beer or the house special, the Regal Mix, would be hit with a dose of the growth drug.
An hour later, Rex had finished preparing for the night. The only thing that was left to do was to flip the closed sign to open. The bartender was ready for just a regular night, not knowing this night would be anything but.