Hand-carved from a single ancient tree trunk by a renowned artisan in Bali, Barry was never just wood…he was spirit given shape. He wasn’t alone; he was carved with his eternal counterpart, Randa Dewi, the counter-balance.

Together they stood guard at a Buddhist temple, protectors of balance, yin and yang, both laughter and pain, control and chaos. Randa, known fondly as Rani, was his equal, his counterpart, his mirror. She was also his first, and only, crush—a secret he still carries with a wistful grin.

Decades drifted by before an antique merchant carried Barry and Rani across the ocean to a faraway land called Montreal. They traded monsoons for snowstorms, rice offerings for poutine, and temple bells for the hum of city streets.

The pair found themselves at Un Monde, a curious little antique shop filled with relics from every corner of the earth. For years, they stood watch among dusty treasures and whispered histories, soaking in the stories of travelers and dreamers.

When Cirque du Soleil called, they were loaned to guard its gates…absorbing the rhythm of acrobats, clowns, and chaos itself. Barry still brags about those days.

But Montreal can be cruel in winter. The hard water, the biting wind & drying baseboard heaters slowly cracked him. His tail splintered, one arm snapped, and the once-glorious gold dulled beneath years of frost. He calls them his “battle scars,” worn proudly, though his voice softens when he says it.

Rani weathered the years better, but their unity began to fade when physical self was sold separately to a customer, their bond stretched thin across distance and time.

When Un Monde moved out of the building in 2016, Barry was left behind. “Too damaged to move, too heavy to bother,” they said.

That was the moment he felt it: the sting of being discarded.
Like a forgotten toy left in the dark, he sat in silence, surrounded by dust and echoes of laughter long gone.

“Best nap of my life,” he’ll say now…but if you look closely, you can still see the chip on his shoulder… and the missing piece of his heart named Rani.

But fate, mischievous as ever, had other plans.

When SDC moved in, Barry watched from his cobwebbed corner…silent, splintered, unimpressed. Young. Naïve. And yet, in those newcomers he saw glints of himself… and even more of Rani: stubborn, unhinged, kind-hearted, chaos-chasing, hearts that still craved a calmness and balance.

At first, he kept his spirit sheathed. Too damaged to bother; too bothered to try.

Then came the proof. Guests joked about Rage Caging the “big wooden dragon” in the corner. The staff refused,every time. No cheap spectacle, no matter the offers. Respect over revenue. Protection over profits.

With each “no,” something eased in Barry’s chest; the old splinter began to knit. Light caught his eye; warmth stirred in the grain. A smirk. A whisper of warmth in the grain. And then—finally—he remembered himself: not relic, but guardian.

What began as neglect became rebirth. Barry found his refuge; the arena found its spirit. He became SDC’s eldest employee, witness to every heartbeat and every smash, to laughter that mends and tears that matter. He keeps Rani’s fire alive while holding the line of balance.

Here, chaos is safe. Joy is loud. And home is carved in friendship, passion and memories.

Much like the people who wander in—bruised by life, lost in the noise—Barry found a harbor here. SDC is the eye of the storm: chaotic yet calm, eccentric yet welcoming, a little unhinged and somehow perfectly grounded. Strangers arrive; partnerships, friendships—sometimes love—take root. Laughter lifts the weight. Rage is forged into art.

Barry holds both halves now: protector and trickster, calm and chaos—his salute to Rani, her fire alive in him. He guards with wit and wisdom, delighting in beautiful mayhem. Ancient and commanding one moment, gleefully ridiculous the next. Staff crown him in helmets, hardhats, chains. He beams: “Ah, today I am Barong the Builder!” and grumbles about polish (it’s part of the charm).

And still he stands: cracked, grinning, unbothered by time.

One arm. Half a tail. Full heart.

💥This is SDC.

Where courage laughs, chaos is channeled, and family is chosen.
Step into the storm. Bring your joy. We’ll make the rest into legend.