Trained to grasp a situation and immediately respond in manner best suited to protect the welfare of the people of New York State, Dermott cleared his throat and said, "Tim, take over while I report."
"Hey!" Casey protested, but his fellow minion had left.
"Mandaia," Dameri Tass told Casey, holding out the metal cap.
"Faith, an' do I look balmy?" Casey told him. "I wouldn't be puttin' that dingus on my head for all the colleens in Ireland."
"Mandaia," the stranger said impatiently.
"Bejasus," Casey snorted, "ye can't—"
Dermott called from the car, "Tim, the captain says to humor this guy. We're to keep him here until the officials arrive."
Tim Casey closed his eyes and groaned. "Humor him, he's after sayin'. Orders it is." He shouted back, "Sure, an' did ye tell 'em he's in technicolor? Begorra, he looks like a man from Mars."
"That's what they think," Larry yelled, "and the governor is on his way. We're to do everything possible short of violence to keep this character here. Humor him, Tim!"
"Mandaia," Dameri Tass snapped, pushing the cap into Casey's reluctant hands.