[Rorschalk smooths the front of his puffy pirate shirt and taps the doomey on the shoulder as the hyped up broker is keeping the buccaneers at bay]
Boy am I glad to see you ... I thought you were on the beach!
[Doomey dodges a barrel and Rorschalk, with a heavy heart, smashes the bottle of rum over an over rambunctious patron's triquarter-hatted head]
Blast! Oh nevermind ...
[he thrusts the jagged remains of the bottle before him like a rapier, wondering when the bumsrush will overwhelm them completely]
There's a vine athwart the window yonder. I'll be right behind you.
[Doomey feints, throws one more practiced combination to keep them honest: jab, hook, uppercut and an axe kick just for show, before breaking for the aforementioned window and swan diving through the unglazed space to get into that swing Rorschalk said was just out there on the other side.]