"No," says the quiet one, "but I do happen to have a tambourine, a trumpet, and a tympani in my pack. Also the world's only ukeolo."

"And that is...?" queried the Admiral.

"A ukeolo bears the same relationship to a ukelele as a picollo does to a flute."

There was widespread regurgitation upon the receipt of this information.

"What key does it play in?" asked the Admiral, hesitantly.

"Flat," replied the quiet man. "Sharp, though, whenever you want it to play flat. It's really quite flexible."

Without warning, huge ceiling beams, heavy stones, classical music scores and other debris fell, blocking off the booth where several sat playing whist.

"My God!" exclaimed the quiet man, dashing to the scene of the wreck.

A large man was already there, trying to shift the pile with his hands.
A button on his shirt randomly lit up messages reading "rm -r *" "SPEWED" and "Kiss Me, I'm Amos."

"A nihilist, I see," said the quiet man.

"Only sometimes, and then partially," was the reply.

"Can we get the entry to this booth cleared? I thought to teach them something of poker."

Amos shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not. It's going to take jacks or better to open."