( you bet this motherfucker is in and out of the water for most of the party. he's stripped down to his bottom-most layers (a plain red undershirt with long sleeves rolled up, a pair of thin deep-grey trousers rolled up similarly) and can be found:

( a ) surveying the early party-attendees for a moment as if weighing something in his head. then, cupping hands around his mouth, he calls, ) A quick question! Who here is the cock-licker? ( little does he realize how immensely nonspecific this might actually be.

( b ) in the water, quite possibly participating in some sort of balloon or beach ball nonsense. if he happens to see someone heading into range, he'll most certainly call out a - ) Hey! ( and bat it in their general direction. guess they're playing now, huh?

( c ) dripping wet and raiding the alcohol. maybe he bumps into you by mistake! maybe he knows you - if he does, expect a horrible wet arm draped over your shoulder like the shithead he is. alternatively, maybe this is his third or fourth trip (he's fine, this much booze is an average weekday) and he's scoping out the options he hasn't tried, turning to whoever stands next to him to ask, ) What am I drinking next? ( but before they open their mouth, he holds up a finger to add, ) And don't tell me if it's delicious or awful. I like a surprise.

( or ( d ) on a branch of the dock, lying on his back, a different bottle of fruity alcohol in each hand. a foot hangs over the edge, kicking idly at the water. his eyes watch the sky, not particularly seeing it. if he hears someone coming, he lifts his chin to peer at them upside-down, then flashes a greeting grin regardless of whether or not he knows them. one of the drinks is offered up, because - ) Have you tried these? They're like candy.