Enzo is sitting at the bar with a
slim volume-an actual, paper book-in his hands and an expression of mild but continual bewilderment on his face. It's interested bewilderment, though, and every so often he'll laugh at something.
After a while, he demands of no one in particular, "What in the 'Net is a humbug, anyway?"
A bowl of mints appears on Bar's surface. He stares at it in consternation.