"Y’all don’t mind me now," screamed Huey, casually hitching his pajama bottoms. "Couldn’t get myself a decent meal in Baton Rouge, had to fly down here to take the edge off. Gotta take a big meeting tonight." He strode unerringly into the depths of the restaurant, approaching Oscar’s table like a battleship. He stopped short, looming suddenly before them, hands twitching, forehead dotted with sweat. "Clifton, gimme a chair."