He didn't have any eyes. That was the first thing that struck me. There were other things of course, such as the fact he didn't have any arms or legs. He didn't have any head either, in case he had eyes in the first place. He was a black swirling bioplastic mass of something or other and he was doing a graceful tango directly in front of the TV screen, thereby blocking off from view the stout woman who needed a shave. He said, "Do you have any idea what I am, Mr. Anders?" "Sure," I said. "Somebody's blennorrheal nightmare." "Incorrect, Mr. Anders. This substance is not mucous. Mucous is very seldom black." "Mucous is very seldom black," I mimicked. "Correct, Mr. Anders." So all right. So they were making Jamaica rum a little stronger these days. So _all right_! Next time I wouldn't get rum, I'd get scotch. Hell with rum. I dismissed the thought from my mind. I picked up glass number two, downed it. I wondered if the Doll was feeling sorry for herself. "Incorrect, Mr. Anders," he said. "The rum is no stronger than usual." I jerked. I stared at the black sticky-looking thing he was. I shut my eyes tightly, snapped them open again. Then I worked the glasses again with the bottle. "Don't be shocked, Mr. Anders. I'm not a mind reader. It's just that you discarded the thought of a moment ago. I picked it up, see?" "Sure," I said. "You picked it out of the junk pile of my mind, where all my little gems go." "Correct, Mr. Anders." It was about time to empty the glasses again. I varied the routine this time by picking up number-two glass first. "Light a cigarette, Mr. Anders." I'm a guy to go along with a gag. I fished a cigarette out, lit it "Lit," I said. And just at that instant the stout dame without the shave hit a sour one way up around A above high C. My ears cringed. I forgot the cigarette and glared across the room, trying to see through the black swirling mass that stood in front of the TV screen. "Puff, Mr. Anders." I puffed. The puff sounded like somebody getting his lips on a very full glass of beer and quickly sucking so that foaming clouds don't go down the sides of the glass and all over the bar. I didn't have any cigarette. "_Ah!_" I blinked. The black swirling mass was going gently to and fro. At about head height on a man my cigarette was sticking out from it and a little curl of smoke was coming from the end. Even as I looked the curl ceased and then a big blue cloud of smoke barreled across the room toward my face. "Your cigarette, Mr. Anders." "Nice trick," I said. "Took it out from between my lips and I never felt it. Nice trick."