Turns out Jacob I. had mistakened Earie for another punk with a queerly similar mohawk who came in earlier that night. “Chuck,” Jacob said, thinking back to the meeting and shaking his head. “Must have been a clown dressed up as a punk. They do that.”
“Tell him to take off his hat,” purred a tinier Broken Heart, sitting on it. “You know you want to see.”
“See what?” Earie asked.
“The I., of course,” replied Broken Heart.
“Oh he’s not interested in that thing, Jackie.”
“Don’t call me Jackie,” said the bone cat.
“Alright.” Jacob looked to the punk presently sitting with him. “How’s that grass treating you, hehe.”
“Pretty good,” said Earie, taking another toke. He’d finish this joint and be done with it, he decided. Has to walk home still, he knew. But how to navigate that whole backyard journey again? Maybe Broken Heart would escort him. If she did, then perhaps he could partake in at least part of another joint. “Good stuff; starting to see Hawaii, haha,” he finally replied to Jacob’s query. “So… what were we talking about? Oh. I have to ask the bone cat something.”
“Hat,” persisted Broken Heart. She tapped her little paw on Jacob’s straw chapeau for emphasis.
Jacob exhaled a lot of smoke in resignation, raising his eyebrow for Earlie while setting his joint down in the ashtray on the table. “She’s not going to give up. But I’m warning you. It’s intense.” Broken Heart jumped to the floor and he removed the hat, laying it carefully on the couch beside him.
Looks like another Big Reveal to me.