`` christ , we 're paying six hundred dollars a day -- '' `` no one 's after us -- '' `` shit , man , next week it 's back to the commodities grind , so we 're going to enjoy -- '' `` no sweat , shirley , they 're not giving out names , they promised me -- '' with the burning , immobile afternoon sun , a small soiled plot of the vast caribbean playground came back to its own particular ambience , death receding with each application of bain de soleil and another rum punch .