There's a no-nonsense utilitarian air here: The decor is limited to big mirrors, big tables, and a couple of big-screen TVs in a big, bland room. You come to eat, and eat messy. You order fresh crawfish, shrimp, Dungeness crab, oysters, and clams by the pound; sausage and (frozen, alas) cob corn by the each; everything is thrown together in a plastic bag with N'Awlins crab boil spices and butter, heated up in more ways than one (they'll ask you how spicy you like it; the medium will burn your lips), and brought to your table still in the bag. You reach in to dig out the dripping, buttery morsels and dispatch them post-haste, piling up the carapaces and shells in a communal plastic dish. We like the mudbugs and the tasty sausage chunks the best. Good beer and mediocre wine are on offer, or you can BYOB. And, except for the moist towelettes, that's it. Cash only.