The group completely let loose in the bar.
Dick performed a difficult street dance routine, then, banking on no one here recognizing him, showed off the bottle-juggling tricks he had learned back in the circus.
Bruce stepped onto the little "stage" too. He was reserved at first, but with Ririko egging him on, he sang "Hotel California," hitting the high notes so hard that even Dick froze for a second.
Arthur was so delighted that he opened every bottle beneath the counter, without a thought for whether he would have any liquor left to sell tomorrow.
Holding her half-finished coconut liqueur, Ririko spun barefoot across the floor to the beat, the breeze lifting the hem of her gauzy dress.
She twirled over to Arthur, took off her sunglasses, and rose onto her toes to perch them on his face.
The oversized sunglasses sat on Arthur's rugged face, making him look like a mob boss no one would dare cross. All he needed was a trench coat and a cigar.
The party was in full swing.
Just then, several locals strode over, gripping spades, wooden clubs, and shovels.
Their leader was a bearded middle-aged man whose skin had been roughened and reddened by the sea wind.
He stopped a few steps from the counter and roared, "Everyone, stop! Turn off the music!"
Arthur took off the sunglasses and tilted his head at the newcomers, his irritation plainly saying, You again. "Glenn, what are you doing here again?"
Glenn planted his spade on the ground while the others stepped forward and unplugged the speakers. The bar instantly fell silent, leaving only the sound of waves crashing against the rocks.
Glenn pointed at the group and declared self-righteously:
"All this noise disturbs the sea god's peace! How many times have we told you?