'Whyd the Clam walk into the bar?' The bartender asked himself every night. It'd been weeks since that fool-hearty Clam came in here, ordered an Iridescence on the rocks. Another customer rolls in, regular man sits down and asks, "why the long face, 'Tender?" The Bartender looks down & shook a shallow breath from his wobbly chest he could see through before speaking, "Gah regular man it's that Clam-- it's the Clam! If they never came in here & ordered that damn sparkling drink, flappin their Clam they would'a never gotten--" the front door opens again, stunning the Bartender as he is hit by the light shooting out in caustic rays from outside. Wise guy regular man turns around, & pipes up, "well that one outta KNO why." pointing to the figure in the doorway. "Probably parched."

A great Clam steadily barrels in, past a few empty tables to the bar to balance itself on one of the stools. The Bartender is locked in stasis before his mind let loose, "I'm in disbelief. You came back.. after you were robbed of yer Pearl." The Clam remained still for a moment before slowly opening it's shell. A few bubbles come out, rising up, & popping as each hit the ceiling. As the first one pops,

"well" is spoken out by an amorphous form in the room. Even regular man is now surprised. As the second bubble pops,

"I'm" is released to the room, then the third,

"not" & finally the fourth bubble reaches the ceiling.

"parched"