The pointed snout surfaces. That's no 'gator, it's a crocodile, like Chipotle back in Baton Rouge. What are the chances?
"Hey buddy," Felice calls out, cheerfully but not so loud as to startle the animal, "do you live here? We gonna be pals?"
The reptilian head emerges a little further and blinks at him, which he takes for a yes. And then he spots a scrap of muddy red. Chipotle's bandanna, that Felice once tied on him for a dare, and has somehow lasted this long without coming unfastened. He'd swear the croc seems to like it.
"Holy cow! Chipotle? The fuck are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, old buddy! Just surprised. How did you know where to meet us?" He's always sworn the crocodile is more intelligent than any other of its kind, but this is verging on spooky. "Gotta go now, things to tell people about. I'll bring you something to eat later."