And suddenly, in walks the dame-boss of the blasting bar, and a cold fog issues from her scowl person by blubbering person around the whole establishment, silencing each, until the only three screaming sources are the trio of fire-monger andthe two lumbering blathering bears rolling in thebeer and the peanut shells. Third-Eye is about to toss another charge but sees his boss out of the corner of his eye, which is to say, out his ear. He is seized in mid-motion, arm raised, cherry bomb a-fuse and burning, he stops, cherry explodes in his hand, and Third-Eye takes to dancing atop the dun-colored altar of LowWater Bar in small hours of Moss Landing.

"Third-Eye!" screams the banshee.

"There's no problem, really!" moans Third-Eye like a scolded boy.

"Delaney!" screams the banshee. "I paid for my drinks!" perks up Delaney out of the mire.

"Who's that!" screams the Banshee.

Mad Jack rolls over at the interruption to his brawl, looks drunkenly up at the crotch of the towering terror and grins.

"Delila!" he yells out in recognition.

"Mad Jack!" screams the banshee.

"Buy me a drink!" he yells resuming his punches at Delaney.

"Get out!" she screams, "I'll lose my license! You bastard, I thought they would have killed you in Alaska! Get out!"

"Well they missed! There ain't any good women in Alaska. They don't buy you any drinks!"

And with one last wild punch he connects with Delaney's jaw and the blustering fidgety pit-bullish form quakes and lies limp. Mad Jack tries to swagger up. By the third try he has found his feet. "Howdy, Delila," grins Mad Jack tipping his hat that is no longer there. "God, haven't seen you in years. You look good drunk."

"I'm not drunk!" screams the banshee. "You're drunk!"

"That's what I mean," beams Mad Jack.

"Get out! Get out!" she shrieks.