This guy, the guy on the left in the iridescent Mets shell, clothes-casing of champs and ironic kings; this guy is a Wizard of Quip, a sleep-deprivation verbal slayer. Laugh assassin, deploying humor that has a closing outer ring of madness. Scariness at the corner of your eyes, so you double-take on people's faces because you thought they might have become wolves. Later, as it gets light and he swills Canadian Club, spitting out names of imagined crab actors (Joey Shrimp "Crawfish" Lobster, this one can play all the shellfish parts; he was born lobster but does a good Jolson crab-face), you laugh hard enough to cry, and become afraid you're going to eat your arms.