Cerulean Cape earth to herc, come in herc -

Whether she didn’t understand him or was simply blowing him off, well, it went over his head regardless — “Could have fooled me,” he said, those pearly whites still displaying with what seemed a never-ending degree of gusto.  This was a man you simply just couldn’t deflate; the wind always favored his sails.  His lids lowered in a rather lascivious, come-hither fashion, another cheap pick-up line reloaded upon his tongue — but her question made him pause. “Chillin, babe, just chillin,” he explained flippantly, his upper-body curling toward the ground as he stretched himself out like a thoroughly chewed piece of bubblegum.  “I’m not from around here,” he began to elaborate, a yawn swallowing his face, before he drug a slothful lick across his chops, “I was about to become an icicle, but the sand was like, totally warm, so I just, y’know – I was like ‘what a sweet blanket this would be.’ And it was. It was awesome.”  He chuckled, baby-blues looking up at her, “so like, what are you doing here?”  He questioned, his head tilted to the side as though a curious child, consequently causing the little pyramid of sand to dismantle.