Ooh, a pre-heist. Getting close to the mafia leader’s fat ass is easy; be a waiter. But he only trusts his bloodthirsty wife. Anyone short could shapechange, but he has refined senses; even the scent of her lipstick has to be exact. You’d need a sample. Maybe from food where part comes back with the cutlery. A roasted vegetable with a rind or a core. Wipe that down to duplicate it, and a smoky room might disguise any other tells. Then a player can feed him some sedative-laced shrimp.

But that hob gob mob don prawn con obligates the kebab snob’s wackjob hearthrob cob swab.